They were rescued from this personal confusion by what would have thrown any audience into a panic ten years before and now was greeted almost with apathy: the appearance of the British peeress in a costume that was hardly more than Eve wore after the eviction. A gauzy shift was all she had on, with a few wisps of chiffon as opaque as cigarette-smoke. Shoulders, arms, and all of both legs were as bare as her face.
No policeman interfered, and not a sermon had been preached against her. Nudity had lost its novelty, and her posturings and curvetings were regarded with as academic a calm as if she were a trick pony or an acrobat. There was much laughter later when a male comedian burlesqued her, with a bosom composed of two toy balloons, one of which escaped, and one of which exploded when he fell on it.
"I think this age will go down in history as the return to nature," Ten Eyck said, struggling for some impersonal topic. "Women in and out of vaudeville have left off more and more of their concealments, till the only way a woman can arouse suspicion now is by keeping something on. And I can't see that we are any worse—or any better. An onion is an onion, no matter how many skins it has on or off. We'll see bathing-suits on Fifth Avenue next season."
He did not know that the next season was to bring a sudden revolution and divert women from disclosure to the covering of their bodies with chaotic fabrics till they resembled dry-goods counters in disarray.
Philosophizing did not interest Willie. He came always back to the individual. By and by he wrestled with silence, and asked:
"Er—whatever became of that—er—soldier you brought up to the farm? Stupid solemn fella—Ward—or Lord—or something?"
"Forbes, you mean?" said Ten Eyck, taking pains not to look at Persis. But he could feel her eager attention in the sudden check of her fan.
"That's it—Forbes. Still at Ellis Island—or is it Ward's?"
"Governor's," said Ten Eyck. "He's been made military attaché at the French Embassy. Sailed for Paris the other day with Senator Tait—and—and Mildred."
Persis' whole body seemed to clench itself like a hand. But Willie, everlastingly oblivious to significant things, driveled on: