"Why 'performance'?"
"Because she's had so many such things written to her—of course she has; just look at her!—she wouldn't care a rap for a million of 'em. Yet she's letting him think she does, in her impassive way, which isn't impassive, after all, you begin to observe, as you study her more closely. She has that cool surface—a statue with an almost glossy patina; but as you get used to her, you begin to feel that she's a woman almost on fire, not with her emotions, but with the incessant vibration of her thoughts. She's thinking about everything all the time; but what she's really interested in just now, over that beautiful long cigarette holder of hers, is the poker game."
"I believe you're right at that," his friend agreed, concentrating his greenish eyes behind the thick eyeglasses he wore. "She's really paying Laurence precious little attention and probably doesn't know what he's saying."
But here the envious young man was mistaken. Mme. Momoro's glance undoubtedly passed over the playwright's shoulder to the green table as he talked; but she was a woman capable of doing two things excellently at the same time. "That is delightful of you," she said, as he concluded his quotation. "I
