To her relief, Mary did. Jean listened with a fixed smile of understanding, made the expected comments, laughed in the right places, and waited for the one long and two short rings that meant Gregory. While Mary disposed in scathing terms of all English Social Betterment work, Jean wondered whether she had seen the fruit and vegetables that must be waiting on the dumb-waiter and how to explain them. As far as Mary knew, Gregory had dropped from their lives. And any moment, it would come, the one long and two short, and she would have to say something.
"I tell you, Jean, I thought there was no brand of human left alive, who could make me despair of the race. But a middle class Englishman does. He's insulated, absolutely insulated in his own righteousness. He would rather——"
There it was, the one long and two short.
"Good Heavens! Jean, are you giving a party? I saw a whole box of things on the waiter."
"No. It's only Gregory. I stumbled into him accidentally one day and, now the family's in Maine, he comes to dinner sometimes."
"Well, I'll be darned. What was the matter with him? Did you ever find out?"
"Never asked him," Jean remarked from the door. "I forgot all about it, myself. I don't believe he ever thought it needed any."
"A regular homefest! Run along and open the door. I won't bother to change my things."
Jean opened the door, but before Gregory could take her in his arms, she stepped back with a warning look.
"You're much too early! I haven't even begun to get dinner." She motioned to the living-room. "Mary," her lips formed.