But none did. Now and then Joan stopped and introduced him to other visions, who gushed and babbled, asking whether she was going to So-and-so's luncheon, and who was taking her to such-and-such a cotillion, and what she was going to wear to the next costume ball. He noticed that she neither gushed nor babbled in return, but seemed pleasantly aloof, a little distrait, as if she were an older woman listening to children.
"Business of being a society girl," he commented once, half to himself.
She gave him a smiling glance. "Yes," she said, "it has a lingo like any other trade."
"But you don't speak it."
"I think perhaps it's not my trade."
He asked, greatly daring, "What is, then?"
"I don't know," said Joan, "yet."
Just then a rather dissipated-looking boy with his hat on the back of his head passed them, and paused.
"Oh, Blair!" he said, lifting his hat to Joan.
"Hello, Carmichael!" Archie greeted him.