Meantime he tried to get
the woman to sit on the couch beside him; but she would not sit in
his presence--or was it in the presence of Mary and me? I had a
feeling, as she withdrew, that she might have been glad to chat with
him, if a million-dollar movie queen and a spoiled young club man
had not been there to claim prior rights.
XXIII
So presently we three were alone once more; and Mary, gazing
intently with those big dark eyes that the public knows so well,
opened up: "Tell me, Mr. Carpenter! Have you ever been in love?"
I was startled, but if Carpenter was, he gave no sign. "Mary," he
said, "I have been in grief." Then thinking, perhaps, that he had
been abrupt, he added: "You, Mary--you have been in love?"
She answered: "No." I'm not sure if I said anything out loud, but my
thought was easy to read, and she turned upon me. "You don't know
what love is. But a woman knows, even though she doesn't act it."
"Well, of course," I replied; "if you want to go into metaphysics--"
"Metaphysics be damned!" said Mary, and turned again to Carpenter.
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