“That’s the Duchess of Bermondsey and the Duke. They’re a regular young Darby and Joan, always together and always looking happy.”
“Why not? There are many varieties of happiness. I was amused looking over a woman’s confession-book once, to find that no two of her friends had—or confessed to having—exactly the same idea of happiness. I wonder what yours is?”
She turned quickly to him, his question jarring on her present mood.
“I’m a woman and change my mind every five minutes.”
“But _now_,” he persisted. “If I could satisfy any wish you had—what would you wish?”
“I don’t wish for anything—I’m quite content.”
“Quite content? That means you’re miserable. Life wouldn’t be worth living if there wasn’t something left we want and can’t have. I always seem to be wanting something. I shall look on it as a sign of old age when I begin to be content. That’s the one drawback to this place—it’s perfect. There’s only one perfection I’ve ever found that I wouldn’t have altered.”
“What an elaborately led-up-to compliment!” Marian said, laughing consciously. “How often has it done duty? Do you pay it to everyone who dines with you here?”
“Not—quite everyone,” replied Geraldstein, who behind his exterior heaviness hid a diplomatic readiness, which was sometimes near akin to wit. “No, I haven’t used it for a long time. Not since I met you.”
“No, for you’ve altered my standard of perfection.”
“That’s very nice, but perhaps that’s been said before too?”
“I don’t remember saying it to anyone else. But are you quite fair? If I didn’t do homage you would think me a fool, and when I do you call me a frivol. It’s not much of a choice for a fellow, is it? Ah! Happy interlude! Coffee. Goldoni’s coffee, and Goldoni’s _fine champagne_, I give you no choice. And a cigarette? It is allowed.”
Marian leaned back in her chair, supremely content; lazily happy, idly watching the other diners, satisfied with herself, kindly disposed even to her host.
“I hope you don’t mind my not having asked anyone else,” he said after a while. “I knew how much more I should enjoy myself this way, and—I’m nothing if not selfish. Have you enjoyed yourself?”
“Need you ask? Can’t you see?” she replied, looking at him with half-closed eyes. “It seems like a dream—don’t wake me from it.”