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To cover his confusion and her own she said in her most frivolous way: "I was thinking that if I am ever rich I shall have more pairs of shoes and stockings and take care of more orphans than anyone else in the world." "A purpose! At last a purpose!" laughed he. "Now you will go to work." Through Gourdain she got a French teacher and her first woman friend.
Perhaps Susan would have shown she did not deserve Brent's compliment, would have failed ignominiously in that first essay of hers, had she not found a Gourdain, sympathetic, able to put into the concrete the rather vague ideas she had evolved in her dreaming. An architect is like a milliner or a dressmaker. He supplies the model, product of his own individual taste.
I've all the reverence for a home of the man who has never had one. I'd not take part in a home-breaking. But since you are free " "I shall never be anything else but free. It's because I wish to make sure of my freedom that I'm going into this." Palmer appeared in the doorway. That night the four and Gourdain dined together, went to the theater and afterward to supper at the Cafe de Paris.
No, there was no certain news, said an Englishman at last, who looked like a lawyer; it was said at Boulogne the night before that there had been an engagement further up beyond the Straits; they had all heard guns; and it was reported by the last cruiser who came in before the boat left that a Spanish galleasse had run aground and had been claimed by M. Gourdain, the governor of Calais; but probably, added the shrewd-eyed man, that was just a piece of their dirty French pride.
She was hearing the battered, shattered piano of the dive. "For pity's sake Mrs. Palmer!" cried Brent, in a low voice. She started. The beautiful room, the environment of luxury and taste and comfort came back. Gourdain interrupted and then Palmer. The four went to the Cafe Anglais for dinner. Brent announced that he was going to the Riviera soon to join a party of friends.
Simply when you asked me to sign, I found I couldn't." "You don't expect me to believe that." "It's the truth." She resumed brushing her hair. "Look at me!" She turned her face toward him, met his gaze. "Have you fallen in love with that young Jew?" "Gourdain? No." "Have you a crazy notion that your looks'll get you a better husband? A big fortune or a title?" "I haven't thought about a husband.
Gourdain chiefly, no doubt, because Susan's beauty of face and figure and dress fascinated him was more eager to bring out her individuality than to show off his own talents. He took endless pains with her, taught her the technical knowledge and vocabulary that would enable her to express herself, then carried out her ideas religiously. "You are right, mon ami," said he to Brent.
But he had been lazy about acquiring French in a city where English is spoken almost universally. With the coming of young Madame Délière to live in the apartment, he became interested. It was not a month after her coming when you might have seen at one of the fashionable gay restaurants any evening a party of four Gourdain was the fourth talking French almost volubly.
She had a regular life; she read, she walked in the Bois; she made the best of each day. And when this definite thing to accomplish offered, she did not have to learn how to work before she could begin the work itself. All this was nothing new to Gourdain.
Brent recommended and introduced to her a friend of his, a young French Jew named Gourdain, an architect on the way up to celebrity. "You will like his ideas and he will like yours," said Brent. She had acquiesced in his insistent friendship for Palmer and her, but she had not lowered by an inch the barrier of her reserve toward him.
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