"So I'm to go to the Island for three months," said Susan reflectively.
"You don't seem to care. It's plain you never was there. . . . And you've got to go. There's no way out of it—unless you skip to another city. And if you did you never could come back here. Freddie'd see that you got yours as soon as you landed."
Susan sat looking at her glass. Maud watched her in astonishment. "You're as queer as Freddie," said she at length. "I never feel as if I was acquainted with you—not really. I never had a lady friend like that before. You don't seem to be a bit excited about what Freddie's going to do. Are you in love with him?"
Susan lifted strange, smiling eyes to Maud's curious gaze.
"I—in love—with a man," she said slowly. And then she laughed.
"Don't laugh that way," cried Maud. "It gives me the creeps.
What are you going to do?"
"What can I do?"
"Nothing."
"Then if there's nothing to do, I'll no nothing."
"Go to the Island for three months?"
Susan shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't gone yet." She rose.
"It's too stuffy and smelly in here," said she. "Let's move out."