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Aileen’s Last Card

           CrossingCentralParkinoneofthenewFrenchmachineswhichCowperwoodhadpurchasedforherindulgence,herglancewandereddownabranchroadtowhereanotherautomobilesimilartoherownwasstalled.Itwasearlyintheafternoon,atwhichtimeCowperwoodwaspresumablyengagedinWallStreet.Yettherehewas,andwithhimtwowomen,neitherofwhom,inthespeedofpassing,couldAileenquitemakeout.Shehadhercarhaltedanddriventowithinseeing-distancebehindaclumpofbushes.Achauffeurwhomshedidnotknowwastinkeringatahandsomemachine,whileonthegrassnearbystoodCowperwoodandatall,slendergirlwithredhairsomewhatlikeAileen’sown.Herexpressionwasaloof,poetic,rhapsodical.Aileencouldnotanalyzeit,butitfixedherattentioncompletely.Inthetonneausatanelderlylady,whomAileenatonceassumedtobethegirl’smother.Whowerethey?WhatwasCowperwooddoinghereintheParkatthishour?Whereweretheygoing?WithahorribleretchofenvyshenoteduponCowperwood’sfaceasmilethelikeandimportofwhichshewellknew.Howoftenshehadseenityearsandyearsbefore!Havingescapeddetection,sheorderedherchauffeurtofollowthecar,whichsoonstarted,atasafedistance.ShesawCowperwoodandthetwoladiesputdownatoneofthegreathotels,andfollowedthemintothedining-room,where,frombehindascreen,afterthemostcarefulmanoeuvering,shehadanopportunityofstudyingthematherleisure.

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Roboto Lora
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