She had not felt ill again; she put her secret fear away, hoping eagerly that she was mistaken. Went out next morning to shop. Was there not always something one wanted?
Joy! She had acted her part yesterday, flashed her dazzling smile at the world. To-day discontent walked with her on the hot pavement.
She had been contented, happy, in her little flat, childishly pleased with her new life, her pretty clothes, her gaieties. And now she wanted more. Electric motors glided by, silent, powerful; wealth which would not have missed the Carterets' yearly income for a day passed her on all sides.
A fat woman got out of a car; the Pekingese dog she carried had cost two hundred pounds.
"Oh! Mrs Carteret!" Mrs Holbrook held out a fat hand. "Hot, isn't it? I'm just going in to Benhusan's here. This necklace Luke gave me yesterday has a bad clasp. So dangerous! I want a pendant for it too. Come in and advise me—do!"
Into the shop with its sombre splendour. Background to pearl and ruby, to diamond and opal and sapphire and emerald.
These spread before this merchant's wife, dazzling toys of pink and blue and sparkling white.
Esmé wanted them. Mere youth ceased to content her. She could not buy even one of these things. She must look and long.
"This one is two hundred guineas, madam."
"Oh! Luke said I might go to that. Mrs Carteret, do advise me. This pearl, the pear shaped; or the circle of opals—or what do you think of the sapphires? I am so stupid."