Aunt Lilian had brought her maid, without whom she can't get on even for
a single night, but Lisa and I had left ours at home, and Aunt Lil had
offered to let Morton help us as much as we liked. I hadn't been shut up
in my room for two minutes, therefore, when Morton knocked to ask if she
could do anything. But I thanked her, and sent her away.
I had not yet begun to undress, but was standing in the window, looking
along the Champs Elysees, brilliant still with electric lights, and full
of carriages and motor-cars bringing people home from theatres and
dinner-parties, or taking them to restaurants for supper.
Down there somewhere was Ivor, going farther away from me every moment,
though last night at about this time he had been telling me how he loved
me, how I was the One Girl in the world for him, and always, always
would be. Here was I, remembering in spite of myself every word he had
said, hearing again the sound of his voice and seeing the look in his
eyes as he said it. There was he, going to the woman for whose sake he
had been willing to break with me.
But was he going to her? I asked myself. If not, when they had chaffed
him he might easily have mentioned what his engagement really was,
knowing, as he must have known, exactly how he made me suffer.
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