“That's right,” said she, “I haven't. Have you found me?”
He slowly shook his head. “I think you're doomed to grope for a while longer. I believe you have a good deal to find—more than some. You remember a while back when I urged you to take a trip with me?”
She did not lift her eyes at this; merely gazed thoughtfully down at her cigarette. He went on:
“I thought I could help you. I thought you needed love. It seemed to be the next thing for you.”
“Yes,” said she rather shortly—“you told me that.”
“Well, I was wrong. Or my methods were. Something, I or some force, stirred you and to a bad result. You turned from me toward marriage. That plan was worse.”
She seemed about to protest; looked up now, threw out her hands.
“At least,” he pressed on, “as a plan, it didn't carry.”
Her fine brows drew together perceptibly. “That's over, Jacob.”
“All right.” He settled back in his chair and looked about the lung room. It was filling rapidly. There were long hair and flowing ties, evening suits, smart gowns, bright lights, gay talk in two tongues, and just now, music. “Tell me this much, Sue. What are you up to? There's no more Crossroads, no more Nature Film—lord, but that was a job! No more of that absurd engagement. This is why I dragged you out to-night. I'm wondering about you. What are you doing?”