Her smile, however, was provoking.
"And all this time," I said, half an hour later, "you haven't told me where you are going." "Paris.

To stay with Delphine Carrere." "I thought you said you wanted solitude." I have met Delphine Carrere--_brave femme_ if ever there was one, and the loyalest soul in the world, the only one of Judith's early women friends who has totally ignored the fact of the Sacred Cap of Good Repute having been thrown over the windmills (indeed who knows whether dear, golden-hearted Delphine herself could conscientiously write the magic initials S.C.G.R.

after her name ?); but Delphine has never struck me as a person in whose dwelling one could find conventual seclusion.
Judith, however, explained.
"Delphine will be painting all day, and dissipating all night.

I can't possibly disturb her in her studio, for she has to work tremendously hard--and I'm decidedly not going to dissipate with her.

So I shall have my days and nights to my sequestered and meditative self." I said nothing: but all the same I am tolerably certain that Judith, being Judith, will enjoy prodigious merrymaking in Paris.