granted--precisely as he made up his mind to this, he became so very
mature, and wise and blasé, modeled his manners and his conversation so
strictly on John Drew in his attempt to rise to the situation, that the
schoolboy topics she suggested froze on his tongue. So that, by the time
he had picked out the books for her and seen them stowed away in the
car, and then had telephoned Rodney's office to find what court he was
appearing before, and finally taken her up to the eighth floor in the
Federal Building and left her there, she was, though grateful,
distinctly glad to be rid of him.

What heightened this feeling was that just as she caught herself smiling
a little, down inside, over his callow absurdity, she reflected that a
year ago they had been equals; that, as far as actual intelligence went,
he was no doubt her equal to-day--her superior, perhaps. He'd gone on
studying and she hadn't. Except for the long-circuited sex attraction
that Doctor Randolph had been talking about last night, he was as
capable of being an intellectual companion to her husband as she was.
That idea stung the red of resolution into her cheeks. She would study
law. She'd study it with all her might!

She was successful in her project of slipping into the rear of the court
room without attracting her husband's attention, and for two hours and a
half, she listened with mingled feelings, to his argument. A good part
of the time she was occupied in fighting off, fiercely, an almost
overwhelming drowsiness. The court room was hot of course, the glare
from the skylight pressed down her eyelids; she hadn't slept much the
night before. And then, there was no use pretending that she could
follow her husband's reasoning. Listening to it had something the same
effect on her as watching some enormous, complicated, smooth-running
mass of machinery. She was conscious of the power of it, though