Laura hesitated a long moment. She had taken the rose from her shoulder, and plucking the petals one by one, put them delicately between her teeth. From the other end of the room came the clamorous exhortations of Monsieur Gerardy. Mrs. Cressler and the Gretry girl watched the progress of the rehearsal attentively from the doorway of the dining-room. Aunt Wess’ and Mr. Cressler were discussing psychic research and séances, on the sofa on the other side of the room. After a while Laura spoke.

“It isn’t that either,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

“What is it, then?”

“I don’t know⁠—exactly. For one thing, I don’t think I want to be married, Mr. Jadwin⁠—to anybody.”