d that enigmatic and powerful
instinct was a consideration based upon the difference between her age and
that of Mr. Gilman. It is true that she did not know what the difference
was, because she did not know Mr. Gilman's age. And she could not ask him.
No! Such is the structure of society that she could not say to Mr. Gilman,
"By the way, Mr. Gilman, how old are you?" She could properly ascertain his
tastes about all manner of fundamental points, such as the shape of
chair-legs, the correct hour for dining, or the comparative merits of
diamonds and emeralds; but this trifle of information about his age could
not be asked for. And he did not make her a present of it. She might have
questioned Madame Piriac, but she could not persuade herself to question
Madame Piriac either. However, what did it matter? Even if she learnt his
age to a day, he would still be precisely the same Mr. Gilman. And let him
be as old or as young as he might, she was still his equal in age. She was
far more than six months older than she had been six months ago.

The influence of Madame Piriac through the summer had indirectly matured
her. For above all Madame Piriac had imperceptibly taught her the
everlasting joy and duty of exciting the sympathy, admiration and gratitude
of the other sex. Hence Audrey had aged at a miraculous rate because in
order to please Mr. Gilman she wished--possibly without knowing it--to undo
the disparity between herself and him. This may be strange, but it is
assuredly more true than strange. To the same ends she had concealed her
own age. Nobody except Miss Ingate knew how old she was. She only made it
clear, when doubts seemed to exist, that she had passed her majority long
before. Further, her wealth, magnified by legend, assisted her age. Not
that she was so impressed by her wealth as she had been. She had met
American women in Paris compared to whom she was at destitution's door. She
knew one woman who had kept a 2,000-ton yacht lying all summer in the outer
harbour at Boulogne, and had used it during that period for exactly eleven
hours.

Few of these people had an establishment. They would rent floors in hotels,
or chateaux in Touraine, or yachts, but they had no home, and yet they
seemed very content and beyond doubt they were very free. And so Audrey did
not trouble about having a home. She had Moze, which was more than many of
her acquaintances had. She would not use it, but she had it. And she was
content i