"But you care for such things?"

"Immensely. When I'm in Paris or London I never
miss an exhibition. I try to keep up."

She looked down at the tip of the little satin boot
that peeped from her long draperies.

"I used to care immensely too: my life was full of
such things. But now I want to try not to."

"You want to try not to?"

"Yes: I want to cast off all my old life, to become
just like everybody else here."

Archer reddened. "You'll never be like everybody
else," he said.

She raised her straight eyebrows a little. "Ah, don't
say that. If you knew how I hate to be different!"

Her face had grown as sombre as a tragic mask. She
leaned forward, clasping her knee in her thin hands,
and looking away from him into remote dark distances.

"I want to get away from it all," she insisted.

He waited a moment and cleared his throat. "I know.
Mr. Letterblair has told me."