They talked as they proceeded along the Boulevard Anspach. The long and the short of it was that Janet agreed to consider the offer. She promised to pay a visit next day to M. St. Hilaire’s apartments in order to meet Henriette. She would then make up her mind whether to take the position or not. Upon this understanding the Alsatian left her. Janet, all agog with her adventure, gave up shopping for the day. The encounter appeared to her to be a godsend. She liked M. St. Hilaire. If she also liked his daughter, if she and Henriette took to each other enough to make the proffered place attractive, she would be in a position to part company with Claude immediately. As she had a strong conviction (backed by plenty of experience) that she could get along with any halfway tolerable human being, she considered the step as good as taken. True, she anticipated a bad quarter of an hour in having it out with Claude. But what a jolly thing it was to be in possession of a powerful weapon like economic independence. It was the last argument against tyrants, in this case against Claude and the special set of circumstances that made her absolutely dependent upon him. She wished she could be candid with Claude and tell him all about the Alsatian. But this was impossible. Claude’s capacity for candor was like some people’s capacity for alcohol. A little of it went to his head and made him quarrelsome. She was not like that! She could stand being told any amount of truth (or so she flattered herself). This was why so many people made her their confidante. Having an illusion stripped away might give acute pain, but it never outraged her. Witness her disenchantment with the theory of free love. But Claude, in common with most people, was like the famous prisoner who had spent years in a dungeon and who, when released, was quite overpowered by the fresh air. An unusual supply of truth all but killed the average man. In this matter, the only one she had ever met like herself was Robert Lloyd. How she had underestimated Robert! Worse, how she had underestimated the strength of her attachment to him! Her partnership with Claude, a partnership of infatuation, had been a weak thing. A breath had made it, and a breath had blown it away. But her partnership with Robert, a partnership of work and mutual interests, had been a bond of adamant. Time could not wither it nor custom stale its precious memory. She had a passionate longing to write Robert and pour out her heart to him as in the old days of the firm of Barr & Lloyd. But no. This would never do. In questions of sex, Robert was as fanatic as any average American business man. The scene on the East River pier came back to her vividly. There he had stood like a reincarnation of Cato the Elder (Cornelia’s nicknames certainly did hit the bull’s-eye at times!) lecturing her and saying: "I sha’n’t have anything to do with free love or with a woman who has had a free lover."