she did something quite uncanonical; enjoying wickedly
the consternation she caused among the serenely regulated, and betraying
to the keen eyes of the New Yorker an ironic appreciation of the immense
wealth which enabled her to do as she chose, answerable to no one. Her
husband was uxorious and she had no children. She had seemed to Price
more restless than usual of late and showing unmistakable signs of abrupt
departure. (He was sure she dusted the soles of her boots as she locked
the door of drawing-room A.) Perhaps to-night she might be in a
schismatic mood.

She was standing apart, a tall, dark, almost fiercely haughty woman, but
dressed with a certain arrogant simplicity, without jewels, her hair in a
careless knot at the base of her head. There were times when she was
impeccably groomed, others when she looked as if an infuriated maid had
left her helpless. She was, as Ruyler well knew, a kind and generous
woman (in certain of her moods), with whom the dastardly cradle fates had
experimented, hoping for high drama when the whip of life snapped once
too often. Perhaps she had found her revenge as well as her consolation
in cheating them.

It was evident to Price that she had been snubbing somebody, for a group
of matrons, flushed and drawn apart, were whispering resentfully. Price
Ruyler stood in no awe of her. He could match her arrogance, and he liked
and admired her more than any of his new friends. They quarreled
furiously but she had never snubbed him.

He walked over to her, his cool gray eyes lit with the pleasure in seeing
her that she had learned to expect. "Good evening, oh, Queen of the
Pacific," he said lightly. "You are looking quite wonderful as usual. Are
you standing alone almost in the middle of the room to emphasize
the--difference?"

"I am in no mood for compliments, satiric or otherwise." She looked him
over with cool penetration. "I may not massage or have my old cuticle
ripped off. If I choose to look my age you must admit that it gives me
one more claim to originality."

"You should have let the world know long since just how original you are,
instead of settling down into the leadership of San Francisco society--"

He enjoyed provoking her. Her dark narrow eyes opened and flashed as they
must have done in their unchastened youth. "Don't dare call me the leader
of this--this!"

"Granted. But the fact remains that your word alone is law. Therefore I
am about to ask you to forget that