With her back still turned Jane snapped, ``I'd rather marry
Victor Dorn.''

``What OUTRAGEOUS things you do say!'' cried Martha.

``I envy that black Jewess--that--what's her name? --that Selma
Gordon.''

``You don't even know them,'' said Martha.

Jane wheeled round with a strange laugh. ``Don't I?'' cried she.

``I don't know anyone else.''

She strode to her sister and tapped her lightly on the shoulder
with the riding stick.

``Be careful,'' cautioned Martha. ``You know how easily my flesh
mars--and I'm going to wear my low neck to-night.''

Jane did not heed. ``David Hull is a bore--and a fraud,'' she
said. ``I tell you I'd rather marry Victor Dorn.''

``Do be careful about my skin, dear,'' pleaded Martha. ``Hugo'll
be SO put out if there's a mark on it. He's very proud of my
skin.''

Jane looked at her quizzically. ``What a dear, fat old rotter of
a respectability it is, to be sure,'' said she --and strode from
the room, and from the house.