"He said the—the change was what I needed."
He busied himself packing a bag. At last he came again to the bed and bent over her.
"Good-bye," he said.
She raised her lips, and he strained her to him. He did not trust himself to say more, and he was grateful to her for her refusal to ask any further question. She kissed him, her eyes unopened. All that he knew was that she kissed him.
Muriel lay quiet for some time. Then she got up and dressed and shuddered when she looked at herself in the mirror, and tightened her stays. Yet she dressed carefully before going out for a long walk.
In the Tuileries Gardens she watched the gaily costumed maids and wet nurses with their little charges. She saw a woman of the working class, who was soon to be a mother. She looked away.
She hailed a passing cab.
"Drive me to the Boulevard Clichy," she said in French.
The driver nodded.
Muriel entered the cab. She had an important errand.