What puzzled him was that this melancholy conversation, with its hint of rebellion, should have occurred at the very moment when he first began to drift away from her. When we live in close intimacy with anyone, something more subtle than conscience tells us about him, and our actions, when they appear to us most inexplicable are often the result of a mysterious logic. Irene and Lewis took up their life together again, but a strong barrier was growing up between them without their knowledge. Irene never tried to check her thoughts: "I don't think we shall ever succeed in being happy." Lewis became exasperated: "If I were as frank as you are we would have stopped being happy long ago; of course we'll be happy, we must be." Then he took her hands in his and comforted her. "Be patient. Don't live on the precious capital of your nerves. Life would be intolerable without sorrow. Would you like me to take you into Society? There are all kinds of quite new things to do there, all sorts of amusing or gorgeous sights which you have always refused to have anything to do with. People in the mass are a bore, but taken individually this is not so true. You are certainly not 'sociable,' as old ladies say; but there is no necessity for you to see old ladies. Won't you try a little pleasure?" It struck Lewis with satisfaction, but not without resentment, that he had never taken such trouble with a woman. That is to say, he paid her those little attentions which are really only parlour tricks, and which he mistook for the impulses of his heart. They went to dark houses on the left bank of the river, light houses on the right bank, hotels, theatres, concerts. They went away from balls at an hour when in the deserted streets the footmen shout out names famous in the history of France. For the first time since their marriage Lewis and Irene went the rounds of polite society in the autumn season. Irene was a great success. Paris did not lack business women, but they were all clever dressmakers, lucky actresses, shrewd concierges, publicity agents; they all worked clumsily, with no more originality than a cook making jam, their only aim being to make money, to be received in Society, and to entertain well-known men, thus showing the limitations of their ambitions. Irene pleased people by her charm, her disregard of the technique of finance, her straightforward methods, her simple and imperious character. She was sought out by everyone; Lewis was never jealous. Important people asked to be introduced to her. Amongst them the Italian Chargé d'Affaires, who was fond of pretty women, but who immediately regretted it because it was on the eve of the Græco-Italian conflict, and Irene turned her back on him.