She was looking as pretty as ever, even somehow prettier, and she had a better manner. Still in apparent mourning, she would not dance, but she regaled Dick with tales of Washington which kept them all amused, and Dick enjoyed her as he had not enjoyed anybody since his break with Cecily. She spoke of that when Matthew had gone to find her coat and get a taxi. She was going to pay some calls while Dick and Matthew talked business.
“How is Cecily?” she asked Dick, the corner of her eyes lifted toward him.
“I don’t know.”
“You aren’t living there?”
“No.”
“Don’t stiffen, Dick. I don’t mean to pry. I’m really sorry.”
“You’re a fool, Dick.”
“Which way?”
“Trying to get along without her. You can’t. Nobody seems to be able to. Here’s your little sister-in-law adoring her. Here’s Matthew much the same. Here’s you, the same, though she irritates you a little just as she does me. I confess I’m exempt. I don’t adore. But I never did fall for the good wife and mother type.”