"
"Don't give me ideas above my station," laughed Joan. "I'm a
journalist."
"That's the pity of it," he said. "You're wasting the most important
thing about you, your personality. You would do more good in a drawing-
room, influencing the rulers, than you will ever do hiding behind a pen.
It was the drawing-room that made the French Revolution."
The firelight played about her hair. "I suppose every woman dreams of
reviving the old French Salon," she answered. "They must have been
gloriously interesting." He was leaning forward with clasped hands. "Why
shouldn't she?" he said. "The reason that our drawing-rooms have ceased
to lead is that our beautiful women are generally frivolous and our
clever women unfeminine. What we are waiting for is an English Madame
Roland."
Joan laughed. "Perhaps I shall some day," she answered.
He insisted on seeing her as far as the bus. It was a soft, mild night;
and they walked round the Circle to Gloucester Gate. He thought there
would be more room in the buses at that point.
"I wish you would come oftener," he said.
Pages:
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193