"She was furious, I think. I hope so. I meant her to be. But she didn't say much, except that the papers were full of lies, and nobody believed them except fools. When she was going I gave her a piece of news to comfort her." "What was that?" "That my opera will be produced the night before her husband's." Susan got up. "Well, I must go," she said. "I've been here a long time, and daresay you both want to rest." "Rest!" exclaimed Claude. "That's the last thing we want, isn't it, Charmian?" He helped Susan to put on her fur. "There's another rehearsal to-night after the performance of _Aida_. You see it's a race, and we mean to be in first. I wish you could have seen Madame Sennier's face when I told her we should produce on the twenty-eighth." He laughed. But neither Charmian nor Susan laughed with him. As Susan was leaving he said: "You come from the enemy's camp, but you do wish us success, don't you?" "I have just been telling Charmian what I wish you," answered Susan gently, with her straight and quiet look. "Have you?" He wheeled round to Charmian. "What was it?" Charmian looked taken aback. "Oh--what was it?" "Yes?" said Claude. "The--the very best! Wasn't it, Susan?" "Yes. I wished you the very best." "Capital! Too bad, you are going!" He went with Susan to the door. When he came back he said to Charmian: "Susan Fleet is very quiet, the least obtrusive person I ever met. But she's strange. I believe she sees far." His face and manner had changed. He threw himself down in a chair and leaned his head against the back of it. "I'm going to relax for a minute, Charmian. It's the only way to rest. And I shall be up most of the night." He shut his eyes. His whole body seemed to become loose. "She sees far, I think," he murmured, scarcely moving his sensitive lips. Charmian sat watching his pale forehead, his white eyelids. And New York roared outside. CHAPTER XXXII