The tea tray was removed and reappeared adorned with all the essentials for the concoction of cocktails. When the glasses were filled and all had expressed their satisfaction at the result, Henderson detained the negro butler for a conference on dice throwing. He seated himself on the floor the better to receive the man’s instructions. The others taunted him for his inaptitude. The butler retired finally with five dollars of Bud’s money, a result attained only after the spectators were limp with laughter. “You’re a scream, Bud! A perfect scream!” and Mrs. Torrence refilled the glasses. She took Bud to the dining-room to exhibit a rare Japanese screen acquired in her travels, and Bruce found himself alone with Constance. She pointed to her glass, still brimming, and remarked: “Please admire my abstemiousness! One is my limit.” “Let me see; did I really have three?” asked Bruce as he sat down beside her. “I want to forget everything this afternoon,” she began. “I feel that I’d like to climb the hills of the unattainable, be someone else for a while.” “Oh, we all have those spells,” he replied. “That’s why Prohibition’s a failure.” “But life is a bore at times,” she insisted. “Maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who never go clear down. A man has his work--there’s always that----” “Hasn’t woman got herself everything--politics, business, philanthropy? You don’t mean to tell me the new woman is already pining for her old slavery! I supposed you led a complete and satisfactory existence!” “A pretty delusion! I just pretend, that’s all. There are days when nothing seems of the slightest use. I thought there might be something in politics, but after I’d gone to a few meetings and served on a committee or two it didn’t amuse me any more. I played at being a radical for a while, but after you’ve scared all your friends a few times with your violence it ceases to be funny. The only real joy I got out of flirting with socialism was in annoying my father-in-law. And I had to give that up for fear he’d think I was infecting Shep with my ideas.” II A tinge of malice was perceptible in her last words, but she smiled instantly to relieve the embarrassment she detected in his face. He was not sure just how she wanted him to take her. The unhappiness she had spoken of he assumed to be only a pose with her--something to experiment with upon men she met on gray afternoons in comfortable houses over tea and cocktails. Mrs. Shepherd Mills might be amusing, or she might easily become a bore. The night he met her at the Freemans’ he had thought her probably guileless under her mask of sophistication. She was proving more interesting than he had imagined, less obvious; perhaps with an element of daring in her blood that might one day get the better of her. She was quite as handsome as he remembered her from the meeting at the Freemans’ and she indubitably had mastered the art of dressing herself becomingly.