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"
Do
n't
you
find
him
a
little
dull
?
"
"
Proust
dull
?
Not
unless
one
does
n't
care
for
gossip
,
surely
.
That
's
what
he
is
,
you
know
.
A
terrible
old
gossip
.
"
He
had
an
uncomfortable
conviction
that
she
was
intellectually
patronizing
him
,
but
he
forgave
her
.
No
more
than
extreme
youth
.
"
I
heard
you
doing
the
Conrad
.
Splendid
.
"
"
Thank
you
.
"
"
Perhaps
we
could
have
coffee
together
sometime
and
discuss
your
plans
?
"
"
If
you
like
,
"
she
said
,
returning
to
Proust
.
He
was
glad
he
had
stipulated
coffee
,
rather
than
dinner
;
his
wife
kept
him
on
short
commons
,
and
dinner
demanded
a
degree
of
gratitude
he
could
n't
be
sure
Justine
was
ready
to
manifest
.
However
,
he
followed
his
casual
invitation
up
,
and
bore
her
off
to
a
dark
little
place
in
lower
Elizabeth
Street
,
where
he
was
reasonably
sure
his
wife
would
n't
think
of
looking
for
him
.
In
self-defense
Justine
had
learned
to
smoke
,
tired
of
always
appearing
goody-goody
in
refusing
offered
cigarettes
.
After
they
were
seated
she
took
her
own
cigarettes
out
of
her
bag
,
a
new
pack
,
and
peeled
the
top
cellophane
from
the
flip-top
box
carefully
,
making
sure
the
larger
piece
of
cellophane
still
sheathed
the
bulk
of
the
packet
.
Arthur
watched
her
deliberateness
,
amused
and
interested
.
