Риф, або Там, де розбивається щастя

II

           

           “Andwhat—ifImayask—areyoudoingnext?”

           Shebroodedamomentbehinddroopedlids;then,withatouchofhauteur:“I’mgoingtoParis:tostudyforthestage.”

           “Thestage?”Darrowstaredather,dismayed.Allhisconfusedcontradictoryimpressionsassumedanewaspectatthisannouncement;andtohidehissurpriseheaddedlightly:“Ah—thenyouwillhaveParis,afterall!”

           “HardlyLadyUlrica’sParis.It’snotlikelytoberoses,rosesalltheway.”

           “It’snot,indeed.”Realcompassionpromptedhimtocontinue:“Haveyouany—anyinfluenceyoucancounton?”

           Shegaveasomewhatflippantlittlelaugh.“Nonebutmyown.I’veneverhadanyothertocounton.”

           Hepassedovertheobviousreply.“Buthaveyouanyideahowtheprofessionisover-crowded?IknowI’mtrite——”

           “I’veaveryclearidea.ButIcouldn’tgoonasIwas.”

           “Ofcoursenot.Butsince,asyousay,you’dstuckitoutlongerthananyoftheothers,couldn’tyouatleasthaveheldontillyouweresureofsomekindofanopening?”

           Shemadenoreplyforamoment;thensheturnedalistlessglancetotherain-beatenwindow.“Oughtn’twebestarting?”sheasked,withaloftyassumptionofindifferencethatmighthavebeenLadyUlrica’s.

           Darrow,surprisedbythechange,butacceptingherrebuffasaphaseofwhatheguessedtobeaconfusedandtormentedmood,rosefromhisseatandliftedherjacketfromthechair-backonwhichshehadhungittodry.Asheheldittowardhershelookedupathimquickly

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