It's no fun to go around when you have the sense that
people are looking at you in a certain way."
He broke in plaintively:
"Don't you think that when even Maury Noble, who was my best friend,
won't come to see us it's high time to stop calling people up?" Tears
were standing in his eyes.
"That was your fault about Maury Noble," said Gloria coolly.
"It wasn't."
"It most certainly was."
Muriel intervened quickly:
"I met a girl who knew Maury, the other day, and she says he doesn't
drink any more. He's getting pretty cagey."
"Doesn't?"
"Practically not at all. He's making _piles_ of money. He's sort of
changed since the war. He's going to marry a girl in Philadelphia who
has millions, Ceci Larrabee--anyhow, that's what Town Tattle said."
"He's thirty-three," said Anthony, thinking aloud. But it's odd to
imagine his getting married. I used to think he was so brilliant."
"He was," murmured Gloria, "in a way."
"But brilliant people don't settle down in business--or do they? Or what
do they do? Or what becomes of everybody you used to know and have so
much in common with?"
"You drift apart," suggested Muriel with the appropriate dreamy look.
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