"That means success, doesn't it? And success means money, and money means so many things. Yes, that's good. I like it."
Nevins smiled, enraptured.
"You were the beginning," he said. "It was the painting of you and—and the blue wrapper that did it. It gave me such a push uphill that I haven't stood still since."
The wistfulness beneath the surface in Mariana's eyes deepened suddenly. Her manner grew nervous.
"Oh yes," she said, turning away. "I remember."
Mr. Paul, who had watched her gloomily, with traces of disapprobation in his gaze, took his leave with a stilted good-bye, and Mariana threw herself upon the divan, while Ardly and Nevins seated themselves on footstools at her feet and looked into her eyes.
"I want to hear all—all," she said. "Are you happy?"
"Are you?" asked Ardly.
She shook her head impatiently. "I? Oh yes," she answered. "I have clothes, and a carriage, and even a few jewels."
She slipped the long glove from her hand, which came soft and white from its imprisonment, with the indentation of the buttons on the supple wrist. She held up her fingers, where a blaze of diamonds ran. Then she smiled.