continued to peer into the mirror, humming an aria from Thaïs: Dis-moi que je suis belle, et que je serai belle, éternellement—éternellement—which no mirror outside a Coney Island sideshow could honestly do. Meanwhile he had to stand there and hold her plate and glass.
On the pretext of seeking food for himself, he took leave of the princess and fled.
"Come again soon, honey," Floss had called out after him. "Just love to see you." ······· If Americans would only refrain from Americanizing everything they touch, Grover philosophized next day. You no sooner ran down a scent in Paris than it brought you out on a path leading straight to Chicago.
The last few days had not only tired him but estranged him from himself. He needed time to sort and range a mass of impressions. He had parted from Vaudreuil on a vague understanding that they would "see each other soon." The schedule had fallen into the discard and he wasn't sure whether it would be better to draw up a revised version or let circumstances work out a routine for him. He thought of returning to the life class in the rue de la Grande Chaumière and enrolling honorably as a member. But as the vision of all those sophisticated students flashed before him, himself standing ignorant, amateurish, and forlorn in
