“Why, the hold of the things we all think we could do without. Habits--they outstand the Pyramids. Comforts, luxuries, the atmosphere of ease... above all, the power to get away from dulness and monotony, from constraints and uglinesses. You chose that power, instinctively, before you were even grown up; and so did Nick. And the only difference between you is that he’s had the sense to see sooner than you that those are the things that last, the prime necessities.” “I don’t believe it!” “Of course you don’t: at your age one doesn’t reason one’s materialism. And besides you’re mortally hurt that Nick has found out sooner than you, and hasn’t disguised his discovery under any hypocritical phrases.” “But surely there are people--” “Yes--saints and geniuses and heroes: all the fanatics! To which of their categories do you suppose we soft people belong? And the heroes and the geniuses--haven’t they their enormous frailties and their giant appetites? And how should we escape being the victims of our little ones?” She sat for a while without speaking. “But, Streff, how can you say such things, when I know you care: care for me, for instance!” “Care?” He put his hand on hers. “But, my dear, it’s just the fugitiveness of mortal caring that makes it so exquisite! It’s because we know we can’t hold fast to it, or to each other, or to anything....” “Yes... yes... but hush, please! Oh, don’t say it!” She stood up, the tears in her throat, and he rose also. “Come along, then; where do we lunch?” he said with a smile, slipping his hand through her arm. “Oh, I don’t know. Nowhere. I think I’m going back to Versailles.” “Because I’ve disgusted you so deeply? Just my luck--when I came over to ask you to marry me!” She laughed, but he had become suddenly grave. “Upon my soul, I did.” “Dear Streff! As if--now--” “Oh, not now--I know. I’m aware that even with your accelerated divorce methods--” “It’s not that. I told you it was no use, Streff--I told you long ago, in Venice.” He shrugged ironically. “It’s not Streff who’s asking you now. Streff was not a marrying man: he was only trifling with you. The present offer comes from an elderly peer of independent means. Think it over, my dear: as many days out as you like, and five footmen kept. There’s not the least hurry, of course; but I rather think Nick himself would advise it.”