“Yes, although I couldn’t realize it this morning. There is a vivid quality about Mrs. Jocelyn which makes it impossible to forget anything about her. Don’t you think so?”
Jarvis looked at Bambi, who grinned.
“Do you find me vivid, Jarvis?”
“You are certainly highly coloured.”
“Ugh! That sounds like a Sunday supplement.”
Conversation limped along like a tired cab horse. Even Bambi could not prod it into a semblance of life. Besides, she was choked with laughter at the picture of Jarvis sitting up, during his sacred work hours, full of bromides and manners. A discussion of New York almost released him. He thundered against modern cities with force. New York, discovered to be the home of Strong, became anathema to his host. It was the Goliath of Tyranny, Wealth, Degeneration, against which, David-like, he aimed his sling. Strong led him on, interested in his personality.
“Mrs. Jocelyn does not share your opinion of New York?”
“There are many of my opinions in which Mrs. Jocelyn does not share.”
“Fortunately. Same opinions ought to constitute grounds for divorce,” said Bambi.
