’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. Stanley lost patience. “I was in Paris four years ago,” Mr. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. The smile had become a laugh. “I should make sure that he doesn’t try to drive himself home. ’ She bit her lip, frowning. ” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home. ” “Fame!” “Isn’t it? ‘I’ve not seen your play, Mr.
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