I went to see her frequently at first, partly because I was
interested in her and her associates, and partly because I really
thought I could help her. But I soon came to realize that
influencing Claire was like moulding water; it flowed back round
your hands, even while you worked. I would argue with her about the
physiological effects of alcohol, and when I had convinced her, she
would promise caution; but soon I would discover that my arguments
had gone over her head. I was at this time feeling my way towards my
work in the East. I tried to interest her in such things as social
reform, but realized that they had no meaning for her. She was
living the life of the pleasure-seeking idlers of the great
metropolis, and every time I met her it seemed to me that her
character and her appearance had deteriorated.

Meantime I picked up scraps of information concerning the van
Tuivers. There were occasional items in the papers, their yacht, the
"Triton," had reached the Azores; it had run into a tender in the
harbour of Gibraltar; Mr. and Mrs. van Tuiver had received the
honour of presentation at the Vatican; they were spending the season
in London, and had been presented at court; they had been royal
guests at the German army-manoeuvres. The million wage-slaves of the
metropolis, packed morning and night into the roaring subways and
whirled to and from their tasks, read items such as these and were
thrilled by the triumphs of their fellow-countrymen.

At Claire's house I learned to be interested in "society" news. From
a weekly paper of gossip about the rich and great she would read
paragraphs, explaining subtle allusions and laying bare veiled
scandals. Some of the men she knew well, referring to them for my
benefit as Bertie and Reggie and Vivie and Algie. She also knew not