"There's nothing very fabulous about this one."
"O, you're so lucky, Nancibel, to be able to afford lovely dresses."
Nan thought of the dresses of the women in the Fadettes, angular, with the restlessness of bargain counters, fussily trimmed. It's not the money, she told herself, it's knowing what to wear.
"Is Mr. Macdougan back from Europe yet?" asked Fitzie with downcast eyes once they had settled themselves in the streetcar.
"Yes, he's back," said Nan drily. The car ground rattling round a corner in the tunnel and climbed out into the shattered dusk of the street. Nan had a glimpse of lights among the trees of the Public Garden. She narrowed her eyes to see the people along the pavements moving dark against the filmy brightness of shopwindows.
"Nancibel," said Fitzie after a pause, "I was so sorry about that ... when it happened."
"When what happened?"
"You know what I mean, dear ... Like Billy and me, you know."
"How absurd. I was never engaged to Fanshaw. Can't you people understand that a man and a woman can be friends? All this sentimental tommyrot makes me furious."
"It isn't that, dear. You shouldn't say such things, Nancibel, love is so beautiful."