Mr. Thurston laughed again. "Do you know," he said, "that the more I see of you the more you amuse me? No; I won't say 'amuse'; I'll say 'interest.' You are such a tremendous type. You are so characteristic. I called you a person with a purpose, just now, and I pretended not to know what your purpose was. That was an intentional hypocrisy on my part. I comprehend your purpose thoroughly. You wish to find out what New York society means. You're making a mental social dictionary. And you desire that I shall supply you with definitions to the best extent of my ability. Isn't that true? Pray confess, now." Claire looked at him steadily for several seconds. There was a mild yet bright spark in her dusky-blue eyes, and a faint smile on her lips. "You say less than you mean," she answered. "I think that I guess what is behind your words. I think that you suspect me of wishing to make my dictionary from motives of future personal preference. That is, you believe that I am a girl with strong ambitions--that I want to rise, thrive, succeed.... Well, you're not wrong. I do want to rise, thrive, succeed. It's in me, as the saying goes. I can't help the impulse." Mr. Thurston lifted both hands and slightly waved them. "The impulse is enough--with you," he said. Claire started. "What do you mean?" she asked. Mr. Thurston looked at the floor, for a moment, then raised his eyes. They dwelt on Claire's very forcefully. "I mean," he said, "that you are too beautiful and charming not to gain your object." Claire laughed, lightly and yet a little consciously. "That is very kind of you. If a young man had only said it! How delighted I would have been!" "Then you think me so very old?" Thurston replied, watching her face with intentness. "Oh, no," Claire at once said, growing serious again. "Not that, of course. But still ... well, it would be idle for me to declare that I think you young." "Perhaps I am younger than you think," he said, with low, peculiar emphasis on each word. "Mind, I only say 'perhaps.' ... But do not let us talk of that. As I told you, I am sure you will gain your object. You will succeed. That is, you will find a higher level than these poor Bergemanns. There is a restless fire in your soul that will goad you on. And in the end you must win." "Tell me by what means, please." "Marriage will be your first stepping-stone." "To what?" "Success." "Success in what form?" "Social success. I assume that your aim lies there. You want men and women of a certain grade to pay you courtesy and deference." Claire seemed to muse, for a brief time. "Yes, I do," she then said. "You are quite right. But you speak of my gaining all this by marriage. How shall I meet the man who is to lend me such important help?" There was a daring candor about this question--a simplicity of worldliness, in fact--which startled her hearer. But his usual gravity betrayed no signs of dismay.