The Glimpses of the Moon

her. She had stayed in bed late,chatting with Clarissa, and expecting to see the door open andher husband appear; and when the child left, and sh

connected the little fact with theshade of preoccupation she had noticed on his face the nightbefore, when she had gone to his room and found him absorbe

ngamong the social reefs and shoals not to know how narrow is thepassage that leads to peace of mind, and she was determined tokeep her little craft in mid-channel. But the incident hadlodged itself in her memory, acquiring a sort of symbolicsignificance, as of a turning-point in her relations with herhusband. Not

was near sunset, and she satalone on the balcony, watching the cross-lights on the waterweave their

a late row on thelagoon. She had taken Clarissa, as usual, to the GiardinoPubblico, where that obliging child had politely butindifferently "played"--Clarissa joined i

alone. Clarissa, indeed, representedthe other half of her justification: it was as much on thechild's account as on Nick's that Susy had held her tongue,remained in Venice, and slipped out once a week to post one ofEllie's numbered letters. A day's experience of the PalazzoVanderlyn had convinced Susy of the impossibility of desertingClarissa. Long experience had shown her tha

's return, and of the searching truths she wasstoring up for that lady's private

abby clothes,glancing up at her as he jumped

she was half-way downthe stairs when he ran

h my hair-wash."Susy was beaming on him with the deep sense of satisfactionwhich his presence always produced in his friends. There was noone in the world, they all agreed, half as ugly and untidy anddelightful as

evalue more accurately than their possessor, Strefford had fo

Europe, and according to every code thatattempts to regulate human ties. Strefford, too, had his homein this world, but only one of his homes. The other, the one hespoke of, and probably thought of, least often, was a great dullEnglish country-house in a northern county, where a life asmonotonous and self-contained as his own was chequered anddispersed had gone on for generation after generation; and itwas the sense of that house, and of all it typified even to hisvagrancy and irreverence, which, coming out now and then in histalk, or in his attitude toward something o

arm in arm, she wasthinking of this qua

lyat home, as touts at an International Exhibition. If they wereusually recognized as Americans it was only because they spokeFrench so well, and because Nick was too fair to be "foreign,"

elfimmensely interested in the last chapter of her history, greatlypleased at its having been enacted under his roof, and h

dear; that's what he's doing: establishing an alibi. What'll

it'swonderful. It's a philosophic romance--rather like Marius, youknow

p when either of us wants a change. We've not married to spyand lie, and nag each other; we've formed a partnership for ourmutual advantage.""I see; that's capital. But how can you be su

have enough common

ess Dunsterville and d'Amblay in the peeragesof Ireland and Scotland, I'll thank you to remember that you area member of one of the most ancient houses in the UnitedKingdom--and not to get found out.'"Susy laughed. "We know what those warnings mean! I pity mynamesake."He swung about and gave her a quick look out of his small uglytwinkling eyes. "Is there any other woman in the world namedSusan?""I hope so, if the name's an essential. Even if Nick chucks me,don't count on me to carry out that programme. I've seen it inpractice too often.""Oh, well: as far as I know, everybody's in perfect health atAltringham." He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a fountainpen, a handkerchief over which it had leaked, and a packet ofdishevelled cigarettes. Lighting one, and restoring the otherobjects to his pocket, he continued calmly: "Tell me how didyou manage to smooth things over with the Gillows? Urs

Nickcome in now and tell me frankly, as I know he would, that

th made you thinkof the Hickses?""Because I c

uggaree whowas gazing up from his guidebook at the palace. "Ah," hemurmured with satisfaction, seeing the shot take effect; then headded: "Coral Hicks is growing up rather pretty.""Oh, Streff--you're dreaming! That lump of a girl withspectacles and thick ankles! Poor Mrs. Hicks used to say toNick: 'When Mr.

h a smile, "we've agreed that