"The years have taught you a lot," he murmured, astonished.
"I have been to school to many masters, Mr. Cairns; I have studied under Sorrow; graduated under Poverty and Loneliness; and I am now taking a finishing course with Experience. Truly enough, I should have learned something, as you say, by this time. Besides, you, also, once were kind enough to be interested in my education. Why should I not have learned something?"
He winced and bit his lip, watching Desboro and Jacqueline below. And, after a moment:
"Shall we walk?" she suggested, smilingly.
He fell into step beside her. Half way down the block she glanced back. Desboro was already crossing the square; the limousine had disappeared.
"I wonder sometimes," she remarked, "what has become of all those amusing people we once knew so well—Marianne Valdez, Jessie Dain, Reggie Ledyard, Van Alstyne. Do you ever see them any more?"
"Yes."
"And are they quite as gay and crazy as ever?"
"They're a bit wild—sometimes."