"Dozens. It's 'Oh, Gloria, if you smoke so many cigarettes you'll lose
your pretty complexion!' and 'Oh, Gloria, why don't you marry and
settle down?'"

Anthony agreed emphatically while he wondered who had had the temerity
to speak thus to such a personage.

"And then," she continued, "there are all the subtle reformers who tell
you the wild stories they've heard about you and how they've been
sticking up for you."

He saw, at length, that her eyes were gray, very level and cool, and
when they rested on him he understood what Maury had meant by saying she
was very young and very old. She talked always about herself as a very
charming child might talk, and her comments on her tastes and distastes
were unaffected and spontaneous.

"I must confess," said Anthony gravely, "that even _I_'ve heard one
thing about you."

Alert at once, she sat up straight. Those eyes, with the grayness and
eternity of a cliff of soft granite, caught his.

"Tell me. I'll believe it. I always believe anything any one tells me
about myself--don't you?"

"Invariably!" agreed the two men in unison.

"Well, tell me."