"Good Lord--were you there so long?"

"Five years. I stuck it out longer than any of the others."
She spoke as though it were something to be proud of.

"Well, thank God you're out of it now!"

Again a just perceptible shadow crossed her face. "Yes--I'm
out of it now fast enough."

"And what--if I may ask--are you doing next?"

She brooded a moment behind drooped lids; then, with a touch
of hauteur: "I'm going to Paris: to study for the stage."

"The stage?" Darrow stared at her, dismayed. All his
confused contradictory impressions assumed a new aspect at
this announcement; and to hide his surprise he added
lightly: "Ah--then you will have Paris, after all!"

"Hardly Lady Ulrica's Paris. It s not likely to be roses,
roses all the way."

"It's not, indeed." Real compassion prompted him to
continue: "Have you any--any influence you can count on?"

She gave a somewhat flippant little laugh. "None but my
own. I've never had any other to count on."