“Oh,” she said seriously, “but no one here would believe such a story as that. You are too young to be a professor. Besides,” she added practically, “it is much better, anyway, to tell them you are working for The Times.”
“Why?”
“Because,” she patiently explained, “they can see some value in that. The power of the press is great. A professor could do nothing for them. A clever young man writing articles for The Times might do much.”
“But, damn it,” he cried, in an exasperated tone, “I’ve never written articles for The Times. Can’t you understand that?”
“Now, see here, my boy,” she said quietly. “Try to be reasonable about this thing. What’s the use of confusing these people here with needless explanations? What does it matter if you haven’t written articles for The Times? You are writing them now—”
“Oh, hell, Countess!”
“You are going to write these very brilliant and interesting articles about Orléans,” she went on calmly, “and they will be published in The New York Times, because they will be so very clever that The New York Times will want to publish them. So why tell these simple people here anything more than that? It would only confuse them. I have told them nothing but the truth,” she said virtuously, “I have told them you are writing a series of articles about Orléans for the great newspaper, The New York Times, and that, my boy, is all they need to know.” She smiled tranquilly at him. He gave up.
“All right,” he said. “You win. Have it your own way. I’m anything you like—the white-haired boy, the prize performer, the crown jewel of The New York Times.”
She nodded with approval.
The farce grew more extravagant day by day. And because this fantastic chance had somewhat dulled the smothering ache that had been almost constant since his parting with Ann, Elinor, and Starwick, he stayed on from day to day, not knowing why he stayed or why he should depart, but held with a kind of hypnotic interest by this web of absurd circumstance in which he had so swiftly been involved.
In the morning, when he came downstairs, the old woman would be waiting for him and would sharply and eagerly catechize him about his conduct the night before.
“Did you go to the café last night, my dear?… How much did you
