He jumped up, pounced on Mary, who was in a group by the tea-table, and bore her off regardless of her interrupted conversation.
“Mary,” he explained, all excitement, “you remember that picture at the magazine office? Yes, you do, a girl with slanting black eyes—Felicity Berber. Well, she isn't an actress after all. Sit down here. Mrs. Elliot is going to tell us about her.” Mary complied, sharing their hostess' sofa, while Stefan wrapped himself round a stool. “Now begin at the beginning,” he demanded, beaming; “I'm thrilled about her.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Elliot, dropping a string of jade beads through her fingers, “so are most people. She's unique in her way. She came here from the Pacific coast, I believe, quite unknown, and trailing an impossible husband. That was five years ago—she couldn't have been more than twenty-three. She danced in the Duncan manner, but was too lazy to keep it up. Then she went into the movies, and her face became the rage; it was on all the picture postcards. She got royalties on every photograph sold, and made quite a lot of money, I believe. But she hates active work, and soon gave the movies up. About that time the appalling husband disappeared. I don't know if she divorced him or not, but he ceased to be, as it were. His name was Noaks.” She paused, “Does this bore you?” she asked Mary.
“On the contrary,” smiled she, “it's most amusing—like the penny novelettes they sell in England.”
“Olympian superiority!” teased Stefan. “Please go on, Mrs. Elliot. Did she attach another husband?”
“No, she says she hates the bother of them,” laughed their hostess. “Men are always falling in love with her, but-openly at least-she seems uninterested in them.”
“Hasn't found the right one, I suppose,” Stefan interjected.
“Perhaps that's it. At any rate her young men are always confiding their woes to me. My status as a potential grandmother makes me a suitable repository for such secrets.”
“Ridiculous,” Stefan commented.
“But true, alas!” she laughed. “Well, Felicity had always designed the gowns for her dancing and acting, and after the elimination of Mr. Noaks she set up a dressmaking establishment for artistic and individual gowns. She opened it with a thé dansant, at which she discoursed on the art of dress. Her showroom is like a sublimated hotel lobby—tea is served there for visitors every afternoon. Her prices are high, and she has made a huge success. She's wonderfully clever, directs everything herself. Felicity detests exertion, but she has the art of making others work for her.”