“True vulgarity,” said one of the men, “vulgarity in the best sense, I mean, should betray no consciousness of its own existence. Only thus can it be really great.”
“Oh, Minnie’s vulgarity is just artificial, assumed because she found it worked so well.”
“Surely you accord her some natural talent along those lines.”
“I suspect her secret mind is refined.”
“Oh, that’s not fair. Vulgar is as vulgar does.”
Adelaide stood up, pushing back her chair. She found them utterly intolerable. Besides, as they talked she had suddenly seen clearly that she must herself speak to Vincent’s doctor without an instant’s delay. “I have to telephone, Minnie,” she said, and swept out of the room. She never returned.
“Not one of the perfect lady’s golden days, I should say,” said one of the men, raising his eyebrows. “I wonder what’s gone wrong?”
“Can Vincent have been straying from the straight and narrow?”
“Something wrong. I could tell by her looks.”
“Ah, my dear, I’m afraid her looks is what’s wrong.”