Kathleen let the statement pass. Delving into Rose’s affairs was fatiguing. But she shrugged just enough to show her friend that the talk about an independent income didn’t deceive her at all.
“What’s driving you away?”
“What’s there to keep me?”
“Well—the gilded Mr. Martin—and me—and always Jim.”
Mrs. Hubbell sneered.
“I wonder,” said Kathleen negligently, “I’ve always wondered what you got out of that Jim proposition. He obviously wasn’t able to take care of you or marry you and you knew some flapper would grab him sooner or later. Rather a nice flapper too. And you didn’t want to marry him!”
“Marry him! I hate him! I never wanted him! He’s crooked anyhow.”
“Oh, come now, Rose.” Kathleen was adroitly probing and thoroughly enjoying herself. It was cheering to know that something was driving Rose away from her last decent quarry. Kathleen had few scruples but she had some and Horatia had waked one of them.
“Drop Jim, then.” Rose was brief. “And better come to New York.”
“Where are you going?”