“I will come—with pleasure,” she said, “if you will promise to treat me as a new acquaintance—not to refer to—Paris—at all. She had been to San Francisco, and what I learned about the world was from her. It was very much like a real house, with one central stalagmite that looked like a column and a waterfall that served when she wanted to bathe. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. ‘Do not be imbecile.
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