"What is the matter?" he said.
For a few moments Selma sat silent with compressed lips, intent on her scrutiny.
"It's an outrage on decency," she murmured, at last. "How dare she show herself here and entertain those people?"
"Of whom are you talking, Selma?"
"The Williamses. Flossy Williams and her husband. The two couples with them live on Fifth Avenue, and used to be among her exclusive friends. Her husband has just ordered the dinner. I saw him give the directions to the waiter. It is monstrous that they, who only a few months ago failed disgracefully and were supposed to have lost everything, should be going on exactly as if nothing had happened."
"People in New York have the faculty of getting on their feet again quickly after financial reverses," said Lyons, mildly. "Like as not some of Williams's friends have enabled him to make a fresh start."
"So it seems," Selma answered, sternly. She sat back in her chair with a discouraged air and neglected her truffled chicken. "It isn't right; it isn't decent."
Lyons was puzzled by her demeanor. "Why should you care what they do?" he asked. "We can easily avoid them for the future."
"Because—because, James Lyons, I can't bear to see godless people triumph. Because it offends me to see a man and woman, who are practically penniless through their own evil courses, and should be discredited everywhere, able to resume their life of vanity and extravagance without protest."
While she was speaking Selma suddenly became aware that her eyes had met those of Dr. George Page, who was passing their table on his way out. Recognition on both sides came at the same moment, and Selma turned in her chair to greet him, cutting off any hope which he may have had of passing unobserved. She was glad of the opportunity to show the company that she was on familiar terms with a man so well known, and she had on her tongue what she regarded as a piece of banter quite in keeping with his usual vein.