"And did she say there was any possibility of her going with him at
all?"
"I think she did. That's what made me think her touched in her mind or
crazy. She said she hadn't decided, or something like that; but as she
was going to be an adventuress she had to begin some time, and perhaps
it might as well be with him as with any one else. She spoke as if it
rested entirely with her to take him or throw him away."
Again I decided to be cruel.
"It very likely does."
She was standing now by my dressing-table, and as if my words had meant
nothing to her she said:
"Aren't you going to take your hair-brush?"
"Oh, I was forgetting to put it in. Thanks."
When I went for it she was holding it in her hand.
"What a queer, cheap-looking thing! Where on earth did you get it?"
"I suppose it was at Tours, with the other things, when--"
"Oh yes! I remember." She moved toward the door. "Your other brushes,
the ebony ones with the silver initials, that I gave you before--before
we were married, are here. They were with the things found on the bank
of that-- They forwarded them to me. Shouldn't you--shouldn't you like
them?"
"Thanks, no. This sort of common thing suits me better."
I was doing the last things about the room. She was standing with her
hand on the knob of the door, which was half open.
"And when you're back in New York, Billy, doing that kind of thing you
talk about, shall you be all alone?"
A second's reflection convinced me that it was best to be clear about
everything.
"At first."
"And later?"