"Possibly the piano could tell tales; I know my 'cello could," said the Grey One. "Beth, dear, I am touching wood, and praying to preserve 'an humble and a contrite heart,' but reeking with commerce. Sold three pictures—real pictures. The one that was hanging at Torvin's so long was sold four days ago, and Torvin immediately took two more——"
"Margie Grey, there are few things you could tell to make me happier,"
Beth exclaimed, coming forward with both hands out.
"I know it. That's why I came."
"With Torvin interested, anything is liable to happen. He's one of the few in New York who know, and those who buy carefully know he knows. Really we should celebrate…. Let's get Vina to go with us, and we three set out in search of an absurd supper——"
Beth phoned at once. Her part was utterly disconnected. She put up the receiver, smiling.
"What have you to say—about those two going out to dinner?"
"Vina and David Cairns?"
"Exactly."
A long, low talk followed, but Beth did not tell that she had spurred David to look deeply into Vina's case, through a remark made by Andrew Bedient…. The Grey One was emancipated, restless. She bloomed like a lily as she moved about the studio, above the shaded reading-lamps. Beth felt her happiness, the intensity of it, and rejoiced with her. Bedient came in for discussion presently, and the park episode. Beth, who had not heard, grew cold, and remembered her own call at Mrs. Wordling's apartment, with the poster…. The Grey One was speaking as if Beth had heard about the later park affair:
"… Sometimes that woman seems so obvious, and again so deep."