"I'm sorry," she said in a dead voice. "We had hoped that, if that man went to France—or if other things happened—we might have continued on the old friendly footing. But you yourself must see that, with our official position, we can't be expected to connive . . ."
Valentine said:
"I don't understand!"
"Perhaps you'd rather I didn't go on!" Mrs. Duchemin retorted. "I'd much rather not go on."
"You'd probably better," Valentine answered.
"We had meant," the elder woman said, "to have a quiet little dinner—we two and you, before the party—for auld lang syne. But that fellow has forced himself in, and you see for yourself that we can't have you as well."
Valentine said:
"I don't see why not. I always like to see Mr. Tietjens!"
Mrs. Duchemin looked hard at her.
"I don't see the use," she said, "of your keeping on that mask. It is surely bad enough that your mother should go about with that man and that terrible scenes like that of the other Friday should occur. Mrs. Tietjens was heroic; nothing less than heroic. But you have no right to subject us, your friends, to such ordeals."