"
"It doesn't matter about me. Everything I do is in accordance with my
ideas: to use every minute of these years, when I'm young, in having the
best time I possibly can."
"How about after that?"
"After that I won't care."
"Yes, you will."
"Well, I may--but I won't be able to do anything about it. And I'll have
had my good time."
"You'll be the same then. After a fashion, we _have_ had our good time,
raised the devil, and we're in the state of paying for it."
Nevertheless, the money kept going. There would be two days of gaiety,
two days of moroseness--an endless, almost invariable round. The sharp
pull-ups, when they occurred, resulted usually in a spurt of work for
Anthony, while Gloria, nervous and bored, remained in bed or else chewed
abstractedly at her fingers. After a day or so of this, they would make
an engagement, and then--Oh, what did it matter? This night, this glow,
the cessation of anxiety and the sense that if living was not purposeful
it was, at any rate, essentially romantic! Wine gave a sort of gallantry
to their own failure.
Meanwhile the suit progressed slowly, with interminable examinations of
witnesses and marshallings of evidence.
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