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Grant, Robert, 1852-1940

"Unleavened Bread"


"What is the matter?" he said.
For a few moments Selma sat silent with compressed lips, intent on her
scrutiny.
"It's an outrage on decency," she murmured, at last. "How dare she show
herself here and entertain those people?"
"Of whom are you talking, Selma?"
"The Williamses. Flossy Williams and her husband. The two couples with
them live on Fifth Avenue, and used to be among her exclusive friends.
Her husband has just ordered the dinner. I saw him give the directions
to the waiter. It is monstrous that they, who only a few months ago
failed disgracefully and were supposed to have lost everything, should
be going on exactly as if nothing had happened."
"People in New York have the faculty of getting on their feet again
quickly after financial reverses," said Lyons, mildly. "Like as not some
of Williams's friends have enabled him to make a fresh start."
"So it seems," Selma answered, sternly. She sat back in her chair with a
discouraged air and neglected her truffled chicken. "It isn't right; it
isn't decent."
Lyons was puzzled by her demeanor. "Why should you care what they do?"
he asked. "We can easily avoid them for the future."
"Because--because, James Lyons, I can't bear to see godless people
triumph.


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