“Indeed she did. They both arrived last night. I thought you’d talked to her.” “No. I haven’t been in touch with either of them since I got back to New York. Paul’s the only one I ever see.” “He keeps the whole thing going, I must say. One of those born organizers. Now! what about you and Iris?” This came so suddenly, without preparation, that it took me a suspiciously long time to answer, weakly: “I don’t know what you mean. What about Iris and me?” “Darling, I know _everything_.” She looked at me in her eager, predatory way: I was secretly pleased that, in this particular case at least, she knew nothing. “Then tell _me_.” “You’re in love with her and she’s classically involved with Cave.” “Classical seems to be the wrong word. Nothing has happened and nothing _will_ happen.” “I suppose she told you this herself.” I was trapped for a moment. Clarissa, even in error, was shrewd and if one was not on guard she would quickly cease to be in error, at one’s expense. “No, not exactly; but Paul who does, I think, know everything about our affairs assures me that nothing has happened, that Cave is not interested in women.” “In men?” “I thought you were all-knowing. No, not in men nor in wild animals nor, does it seem, from the evidence Paul’s collected, in anything except John Cave. Sex does not happen for him.” “Oh,” said Clarissa, exhaling slowly, significantly, inscrutably. She abandoned her first line of attack to ask: “But _you_ are crazy about Iris, aren’t you? That’s what I’d intended, you know, when I brought you two together.” “I thought it was to bring me into Cave’s orbit.” “That, too, but somehow I saw you and Iris ... well, you’re obviously going to give me no satisfaction so I shall be forced to investigate on my own.” “Not to sound too auctorial, too worried, do you think it will get Cave across? the introduction here?” “I see no reason why not. Look at the enormous success of those books with tides like 'Eternal Bliss Can Be Yours for the Asking’ or 'Happiness at Your Beck-and-Call.’” “I’m a little more ambitious.” “Not in the least. But the end served is the same. You got down the main line of Cave’s thinking, if it can be called thinking. And your book, along with his presence, should have an extraordinary effect.” “Do you really think so? I’ve begun to doubt.” “Indeed I do. They are waiting ... all those sad millions who want to believe will find him exactly right for their purposes. He exists only to be believed in. He’s a natural idol ... did you know that when Constantine moved his court to the East, his heirs were trained by Eastern courtiers to behave like idols and when his son came in triumph back to Rome (what a day that was! hot, but exciting) he rode for hours through the crowded streets without once moving a finger or changing expression, a perfectly trained god. We were all so impressed ...”