There was also a certain resemblance between me
and a well-meaning plant which has been pulled up by its roots just as
it had begun to grow nicely, and then stuck into the earth again,
upside down, to do the best it can.
I was not quite sure yet which was up or down, and which way I had
better grow, if at all. There was, however, an attraction in a
southerly direction: letters were to be forwarded to me at Grenoble,
and there would probably be one from Jack or Molly Winston, saying
when and where they might be expected to come upon the scene with
Mercedes. Finding me stranded, they would doubtless take pity upon my
forlornness, and offer me a lift in their car, down to the Riviera.
And to the Riviera I still felt strongly impelled to go, though I had
no longer the Contessa for an excuse. She had been engaged, in my
little drama, for the part of "leading juvenile," with the privilege
of understudying the heroine. But she had not shown an aptitude for
either role, and having stepped down to that of first walking lady,
she had minced off my stage altogether. Now the cast was filled up
without her, though strangely filled, since after the first act there
had been no leading lady at all. Nevertheless, having arranged a scene
at Monte Carlo I could not persuade myself to give it up, though it
would not be played, in any event, at the Contessa's villa.
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