For Mr. Ricardo had
not stopped reading. He had gone on as though he had not heard their
boisterous entry, and even now would have seemed unaware of their
existence but for something bitter and antagonistic in the hunch of his
thin shoulders. His dark, biting eyes avoided them like those of a
sullen child who does not want to see. But Miss Edwards appeared to be
not easily depressed. She waved her hand in friendly thanks for the
cigarette case which Francey tossed across to her, and, having selected
her cigarette with blunt, viciously manicured fingers, poked Cosgrave
for a match.
"Gawd Almighty, and Little Connie K.O.'ed in the first round by an
untested hypo--hypo---- What was it, Ruffles dear? (Oh, do stop
squeezing my hand! This isn't the pictures, and it's a match I
want--not love.) An untested hypothesis. Thank you, dearie. I wonder
if He's feeling as sore about it as I am?"
She gurgled over her cigarette, and Cosgrave smiled at everyone in
turn, as though he had said aloud, "Isn't she a splendid joke?" He
looked almost mystically happy.
"Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven," Mr. Ricardo muttered. "Mark it,
mark it, Robert--the shallow thinking, shallow jesting, shallow
living----"
Miss Edwards winked at Francey, and Francey looked back at her with her
understanding kindliness. It seemed to Robert that ever since Connie
Edwards had burst into the room Francey had changed. The change was
subtle and difficult to lay hold of, like Francey herself.
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