I was his wife. Most unsatisfactory. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. He hadn't patrolled old Pell Street as a plain clothes man without getting a glimmer of the ancient truth that East is East and West is West. “Indeed, I must implore you to return. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. " "Go, Mr. ” “All right. Directly dinner was over Mr. ‘I, on the other hand, want to help you to marry this Englishman. I don’t want a family in the suburbs and Christmases at the Florida house and summers at the Hamptons. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own.
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