"Very well," he said grudgingly, "but I hope she can manage to come in an hour or two each day."
"Stop bothering her. I'm the only one that can do that. Your old books can wait," Lucy insisted.
"It's not very pleasant lying here by myself," he whimpered.
"I have come to the conclusion he likes to have someone at his beck and call to occupy him. Of course he is ill now and alone; Denis is usually too busy running that enormous house, and Hal is practicing at his apartment these days," Vida told Lucy in the taxi driving uptown.
"Not all the time. I saw him lunching with Horta Cornwallis at the Athenée Wednesday when I was with Nino."
"Nino had dinner with Figente Wednesday night. Denis brought in a cook from the Spanish quarter under the Brooklyn Bridge. The studio reeked of frying olive oil and garlic. I think it was that dinner that knocked out Figente."
"So that's who it was," Lucy reflected, troubled. It was Nino who had spoken of her to Figente.
"So who was?"
"Nothing," she said. "I was thinking when I work hard I always lose weight, but you're gaining.
"I'm not, it's this dress that makes me look heavier," Vida replied, panicky.
"Well, for heaven's sake, don't look like that. You are so edgy these days. You need a good night's sleep. I'm not going to let you work tonight. I just told Figente that to get you away. Wait until you see the apartment, Mother is in her glory."
An apt description, Vida thought as they entered.
A sand-covered tarpaulin stretched over the rug was a beach strewn with crushed pearl bead shells and a frothed high surf of Paris green, candy pink, lemon, grey, lavender and white tarlatans and wisps of chiffon mounting to a rose-garlanded cloud of plumes and migrant arabesques of black ribbons. From the center Mae, her filmy grey hair awry, glanced up from sewing and greeted them with the little sad smile which was her expression when happy.
"I haven't seen you for three days, Vida. My, you look fine."
"I am, I am," said Vida, and clenched her teeth so as not to burst into tears and throw herself on Mae's comforting lap.
"What are you doing now, Mother?"
