told me where you are going."

"Paris. To stay with Delphine Carrere."

"I thought you said you wanted solitude."

I have met Delphine Carrere -_brave femme_ if ever there was one,
and the loyalest soul in the world, the only one of Judith's
early women friends who has totally ignored the fact of the
Sacred Cap of Good Repute having been thrown over the windmills
(indeed who knows whether dear, golden-hearted Delphine herself
could conscientiously write the magic initials S.C.G.R. after her
name?); but Delphine has never struck me as a person in whose
dwelling one could find conventual seclusion. Judith, however,
explained.

"Delphine will be painting all day, and dissipating all night. I
can't possibly disturb her in her studio, for she has to work
tremendously hard--and I'm decidedly not going to dissipate with
her. So I shall have my days and nights to my sequestered and
meditative self."

I said nothing: but all the same I am tolerably certain that Judith,
being Judith, will enjoy prodigious merrymaking in Paris. She is
absolutely sincere in her intentions--the earth holds no sincerer
woman--but she is a self-deceiver. Her about-to-be-sequestered
and meditative self was at that moment sitting on the arm of a
chair and smoking a cigarette, with undisguised relish of the good
things of this life. The blue smoke wreathing itself amid her fair
hair resembled, so I told her in the relaxed intellectual frame of