Then at last she relented and began to persuade him to go to bed.

How white and haggard and queer he looked.
Again a lump rose in her throat.

Soon she was saying quietly: "I should think that some day, dear, you'd want to go back to Paris and work." He made no answer.
But in the weeks that followed, she dropped this thought again and again into his mind.

Paris, study, work, old dreams--she played these against his business, against Amy and her friends and the flattery of Fanny Carr, against that odious press agent and the plan for Riverside Drive.
"Has he turned it down ?" she inquired of his partner.
"Not yet," was the answer.

"It's still in the air.
"I wish this were over," Ethel thought.