A reproduction of a picture by Gerome gave him some
suggestions for the "Last Enemy," which he noted very carefully.
He was interrupted by a rustle of starched skirts and a voice that said:
"Why, hello, Van!"
He looked up quickly to see a young girl of about twenty dressed in a
black close-fitting bolero jacket of imitation astrakhan with big
leg-of-mutton sleeves, a striped silk skirt, and a very broad hat tilted
to one side. Her hair was very blond, though coarse and dry from being
bleached, and a little flat curl of it lay very low on her forehead. She
was marvellously pretty. Vandover was delighted.
"Why, _Ida_!" he exclaimed, holding her hand; "_it's_ awfully nice to
see you here; won't you sit down?" and he pushed his chair toward her.
But Ida Wade said no, she had just come in after a new book, and of
course it had to be out. But where had he kept himself so long? That was
the way he threw off on her; ah, yes, he was going with Miss Ravis now
and wouldn't look at any one else.
Vandover protested against this, and Ida Wade went on to ask him why he
couldn't come up to call on her that very night, adding:
"We might go to the Tivoli or somewhere.
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