Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. “I wonder how it is,” she exclaimed, “that my friends have so much more confidence in me than I have in myself. “I am bored,” she said abruptly. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him. You are marvelous!” Carolyn Diedermayer exclaimed. But an individual she never laid eyes on day before yesterday! And the minute he gets up, he'll head for the public bar. The youth with his hair like Russell cleared his throat and said rather irrelevantly that he knew a man who knew Thomas Bayard Simmons, who had rioted in the Strangers’ Gallery, and then Capes, finding them all distinctly pro-Ann Veronica, if not profeminist, ventured to be perverse, and started a vein of speculation upon the Scotchman’s idea—that there were still hopes of women evolving into something higher.
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