first
Audrey had met. They were of about the same age--whatever that age might
be--and if they were not exactly of the same age, then Tommy with red hair
was older than Nick with grey hair. Indeed, Nick took the earliest
opportunity to remark that her hair had turned grey at nineteen. They both
had dreamy eyes that looked through instead of looking at; they were both
hazy concerning matters of fact; they were both attached like a couple of
aunts to Musa, who nestled between them like a cat between two cushions;
they were both extraordinarily friendly and hospitable; they both painted
and both had studios--in the same house; they both showed quite a
remarkable admiration and esteem for all their acquaintances; and they both
lacked interest in their complexions and their hair.

The resemblance did not go very much farther. Tommy, for all her praising
of friends, was of a critical, curious, and analytical disposition, and her
greenish eyes were always at work qualifying in a very subtle manner what
her tongue said, when her tongue was benevolent, as it often was. Feminism
and suffragism being the tie between the new acquaintances, these subjects
were the first material of conversation, and an empress of militancy known
to the world as "Rosamund" having been mentioned, Miss Ingate said with
enthusiasm:

"She lives only for one thing."

"Yes," replied Tommy. "And if she got it, I guess no one would be more
disgusted than she herself."

There was an instant's silence.

"Oh, Tommy!" Nick lovingly protested.

Said Miss Ingate with a comprehending satiric grin:

"I see what you mean. I quite see. I quite see. You're right, Miss
Thompkins. I'm sure you're right."

Audrey decided she would have to be very clever in order to be equal to
Tommy's subtlety. Nick, on the other hand, was not a bit subtle, except
when she tried to imitate Tommy. Nick was kindness, and sympathy, and
vagueness. You could see these admirable qualities in every curve of her
face and gleam of her eyes. She was very sympathetic, but somewhat shocked
when Audrey blurted out that she had not come to Paris in order to paint.

"There are at least fifty painters in this cafe this very minute," said
Tommy. And somehow it was just as if she had said: "If you haven't come to
Paris to paint, what have you come for?"

"Does Mr. Musa paint, too?" asked Audrey.

"Oh _no_!" Both his protectresses answered together, pained. Tommy added:
"Musa plays the violin--