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‘That’s fine.’
He tried to arrange an attitude but no logic seemed
forthcoming.
‘—Music too. Hope you didn’t think I was only inter-
ested in ragtime. I practise every day—the last few months
I’ve been taking a course in Zurich on the history of music.
In fact it was all that kept me going at times—music and
the drawing.’ She leaned suddenly and twisted a loose strip
from the sole of her shoe and then looked up. ‘I’d like to
draw you just the way you are now.’
It made him sad when she brought out her accomplish-
ments for his approval.
‘I envy you. At present I don’t seem to be interested in
anything except my work.’
‘Oh, I think that’s fine for a man,’ she said quickly. ‘But
for a girl I think she ought to have lots of minor accomplish-
ments and pass them on to her children.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Dick with deliberated indifference.
Nicole sat quiet. Dick wished she would speak so that
he could play the easy rôle of wet blanket, but now she sat
quiet.
‘You’re all well,’ he said. ‘Try to forget the past; don’t
overdo things for a year or so. Go back to America and be a
débutante and fall in love—and be happy.’
‘I couldn’t fall in love.’ Her injured shoe scraped a co-
coon of dust from the log on which she sat.
‘Sure you can,’ Dick insisted. ‘Not for a year maybe, but
sooner or later.’ Then he added brutally: ‘You can have a per-
fectly normal life with a houseful of beautiful descendants.

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