“One of those tributes,” Lawless answered, “that cost so little either in the way of self-sacrifice or money that men don’t mind offering them. But love asks bigger things. That’s where the majority of us jib. Love is over exacting; we quarrel with it on account of its demands... I suppose where a man’s love was big enough to understand, it would be equal to removing mountains and draining the ocean... In lesser cases it contents itself with sucking sweets.”
“You are trying to make out that you know something about it, I suppose?” Van Bleit said, slightly nettled.
Lawless laughed.
“I should never attempt the moving of mountains,” he replied.
Mrs Lawless arrived during the extras that followed immediately upon the supper dance. The ball-room was empty, save for a few couples, mostly young enthusiasts who preferred to make the most of their opportunity when the floor was not so crowded, and to sup later when the refreshment-room too had thinned, and the faithful Van Bleit. He insisted upon taking her in to supper. She had come with the Smythes; and she turned to Mrs Smythe at the mention of supper and lifted protesting shoulders.
“One cannot keep on eating,” she said.
“Karl can,” Mrs Smythe responded.
“I’m famished,” he said. “I’ve been waiting until you arrived. In fairness to me you must come and see me through.”
Smythe pointed to the revolving couples.
“We shan’t get seats,” he said; “they’re crowded out, you see.”