Page 109 - tender-is-the-night

gracefully about above their dark tailored suits, rather like
long-stemmed flowers and rather like cobras’ hoods.
‘Oh, they give a good show,’ said one of them, in a deep
rich voice. ‘Practically the best show in Paris—I’d be the last
one to deny that. But after all—‘ She sighed. ‘Those phrases
he uses over and over—‘Oldest inhabitant gnawed by ro-
dents.’ You laugh once.’
‘I prefer people whose lives have more corrugated sur-
faces,’ said the second, ‘and I don’t like her.’
‘I’ve never really been able to get very excited about them,
or their entourage either. Why, for example, the entirely liq-
uid Mr. North?’
‘He’s out,’ said the first girl. ‘But you must admit that the
party in question can be one of the most charming human
beings you have ever met.’
It was the first hint Rosemary had had that they were
talking about the Divers, and her body grew tense with in-
dignation. But the girl talking to her, in the starched blue
shirt with the bright blue eyes and the red cheeks and the
very gray suit, a poster of a girl, had begun to play up. Des-
perately she kept sweeping things from between them, afraid
that Rosemary couldn’t see her, sweeping them away until
presently there was not so much as a veil of brittle humor
hiding the girl, and with distaste Rosemary saw her plain.
‘Couldn’t you have lunch, or maybe dinner, or lunch
the day after?’ begged the girl. Rosemary looked about for
Dick, finding him with the hostess, to whom he had been
talking since they came in. Their eyes met and he nodded
slightly, and simultaneously the three cobra women noticed

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