"Oh, _all_ right," he called indulgently to his wife: "coming!... All women are crazy, anyhow," he confided to the others. "You've got to let 'em have their own way. So--good night. Hope I'll have the pleasure of seeing you-all soon again." He extended a hand to Helena--who gave him cool fingertips--and paused before Joan. "Au revoir, Miss Thursday...." The girl was unconscious of the proffered hand. Her eyes averted, she murmured a good night. His smile broadening, Marbridge turned to Matthias; received from him a look that was as good as a kick, gave back a grin of graceless effrontery; and swinging, linked arms with Tankerville. "Come along, George--take a look at our new car. She's a wonder!" Civilly playing his part, Tankerville submitted. They disappeared--Marbridge gabbling cheerfully--into the house. Joan uncurtained her eyes. Her lover, with a face of thunder, was looking toward his aunt; who made a slight negative motion of her head, with an admonitory flutter of one hand: a servant with a tray was drawing near. Matthias answered her with a gesture of controlled wrath; turned to the balustrade; stood there staring straight into the angry sunset glow. On the drive a motor snorted, snored, drew away with a whine diminuendo.... Throughout the remainder of Joan's visit the incident was not once referred to. But it had had its curious and disturbing effect upon the girl. She remembered it all very vividly, reviewed it with insatiable inquisitiveness. From this she derived a feeling, which she resented, of having witnessed a scene fraught with significance indecipherable to her. XXI A little after the hour of four on Monday afternoon, Joan emerged from that riotous meander of hideous wooden galleries, ramps, passages, sheds, and vast echoing caves of gloom, which in those days encumbered the site of the new Grand Central Station; and with a long breath of relief turned westward on Forty-second Street. She walked slowly and without definite aim; yet she had never felt so keenly the quickness and joy of being alive. Her idle fancy invested with a true if formless symbolism her escape from that amazing labyrinth of shadows to the clear, sweet sunlight of the clamorous, busy street: as if she had eluded and cast off convention and formality, the constraint of a settled future and the strain of aspirations to be other than as Nature had fashioned her; and was free again of the enchanting ease of being simply herself. She had within five minutes said good-bye to her betrothed; her lips were yet warm with their parting kiss, her eyes still moist--and so, the more bewitching--with the facile tears through which she had watched his train draw out of the station. He was not to be back within a month; more probably his return would not occur within five or six weeks....