"They change," said Gloria. "All the qualities that they don't use in
their daily lives get cobwebbed up."
"The last thing he said to me," recollected Anthony, "was that he was
going to work so as to forget that there was nothing worth working for."
Muriel caught at this quickly.
"That's what _you_ ought to do," she exclaimed triumphantly. "Of course
I shouldn't think anybody would want to work for nothing. But it'd give
you something to do. What do you do with yourselves, anyway? Nobody ever
sees you at Montmartre or--or anywhere. Are you economizing?"
Gloria laughed scornfully, glancing at Anthony from the corners of her
eyes.
"Well," he demanded, "what are you laughing at?" "You know what I'm
laughing at," she answered coldly.
"At that case of whiskey?"
"Yes"--she turned to Muriel--"he paid seventy-five dollars for a case of
whiskey yesterday."
"What if I did? It's cheaper that way than if you get it by the bottle.
You needn't pretend that you won't drink any of it."
"At least I don't drink in the daytime."
"That's a fine distinction!" he cried, springing to his feet in a weak
rage. "What's more, I'll be damned if you can hurl that at me every
few minutes!"
"It's true.
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