He pushed back his chair and rose. "Shall we join the others?" he said.

He moved so that he was between her and the other room, his back to the
open doors. "You think I ought to?" he said.

"Yes," she answered firmly, as if she were giving a command. But he read
pity also in her eyes.

"Well, have you two settled the affairs of the kingdom? Is it all
decided?" asked Airlie.

"Yes," he answered, laughing. "We are going to say to the people, 'Eat,
drink and be wise.'"

He rearranged his wife's feather and smoothed her tumbled hair. She
looked up at him and smiled.

Joan set herself to make McKean talk, and after a time succeeded. They
had a mutual friend, a raw-boned youth she had met at Cambridge. He was
engaged to McKean's sister. His eyes lighted up when he spoke of his
sister Jenny. The Little Mother, he called her.

"She's the most beautiful body in all the world," he said. "Though
merely seeing her you mightn't know it."

He saw her "home"; and went on up the stairs to his own floor.

Joan stood for a while in front of the glass before undressing; but felt
less satisfied with herself. She replaced the star in its case, and took