But Joliffe loved this society. He could not have enough of it. I felt angry and in a way humiliated by the manner in which some of the women regarded Joliffe. It was even more disconcerting because he appeared to enjoy it.

One night as we jolted back to the hotel in our cab I said: “I’ve come to the conclusion that I shall have to grow accustomed to the way women look at you.”

He answered: “How do they look?” But of course he knew.

“I have heard it said that women like men who like them. Is that true?”

“Don’t we always like those who like us?”

“I mean women collectively. They don’t have time to find out whether you like them personally. It’s something they know by instinct. Women like you, Joliffe.”

“Oh that’s because I’m so good-looking,” he said jocularly. He turned to me. “In any case I’m indifferent to what they think of me. There’s only one whose opinion is of importance.”

Joliffe could say things like that. He could sweep away hours of doubting fears in a second, and although I began to feel that there was much I did not know of him and of life, I loved him more every day.

Many of the people we met were his business associates.

“In a business like mine,” he said, “I travel a great deal. I have to. When I hear of treasures here in Paris, in London, in Rome… I come to see them. I’m always looking for treasure.”

“Does one look here for Chinese treasure?”

“It’s everywhere. There was a time when it was fashionable to collect chinoiserie. People did it all over Europe. Thus many of the art treasures of China found their way here.”

He took me along to a dealer on the Left Bank one day. That was one of my happiest days.

There in a dark little room were some beautiful objects. I cried out in delight, and I realized how I had missed the showroom at Roland’s Croft and working with Mr. Sylvester.

How delighted I was to surprise both Joliffe and the dealer with my knowledge when I recognized some exquisite scrolls of the T’ang Dynasty and placed them somewhere round the tenth century.

I was grateful for the tuition I had received.

I was drawn into a new intimacy. We drank wine in a little room at the back of the showroom—myself, Joliffe, and Monsieur Ferrand the dealer. I felt that I entered a magic circle. I was very happy. The color engendered by wine and happiness touched my cheeks. My eyes were shining. It will always be like this, I told myself.

Monsieur Ferrand wanted to show us some rings he had had brought to him. Someone had come back from Peking with them. The jade was beautiful—some in the delicious apple green, some a translucent emerald color. I liked the apple green better though I knew the darker ones to be more valuable.

There was one of this lightish green shade most exquisitely carved and in the front was an eye the pupil of which was a diamond. It was most unusual.

“Said to be the eye of Kuan Yin,” explained Monsieur Ferrand. “I had to give a good price for it because of the legend you know. The owner of this ring will always be able to look into the eye of the goddess. That should be very useful.”

“I haven’t seen a piece like this before.”

“I hope not. This one should be unique.”

I took it up and slipped it on my finger. Joliffe took my hand and across the table his eyes met mine. They were alight with love and I thought—strangely enough at that time—anything that happens is worth while for this moment.

“It looks well on your finger, Jane.”

“Just imagine, madame,” put in Monsieur Ferrand, “the goddess of good fortune would always be on hand as it were.”

Joliffe laughed.

“You must have it, Jane. Married to me, you may need it.”

“Married to you I am the last person to need it.”

A shadow passed momentarily over his face. I had never seen him look like that before—sad, almost apprehensive. But he was almost immediately gay again.

“Nevertheless you must have it. Although I shouldn’t say so in front of Monsieur Ferrand because I must strike a bargain with him.”

They talked over the ring and I tried it on again. At last they decided on a price and I put it back on my finger. Joliffe took my hand and kissed the ring.

“May good fortune always be yours, my darling,” he said.

I sat in the cab leaning against Joliffe, turning the ring round and round on my finger.

“I have reached the very peak of happiness now,” I said. “There can’t be anything more.”

Joliffe assured me that there was.


* * *

How the days flew—happy days except for the evenings when we entertained or were entertained by his friends and business associates. Then my eyes would ache with the smoke and the lights and my ears would be weary with the music and I would strain to translate what I was sure were the risqué jokes of some people who came and sat at our table and drank champagne with us.

Many of the women seemed to know Joliffe. Like all others these had their special look for him.

There was one happy day when we dined quietly in the hotel—tête-à-tête at a table secluded by palms. I remember I was wearing a dress of green and white striped taffeta which Joliffe had chosen for me. I had grown accustomed now to the clothes I was wearing. I wondered whether my personality was changing. I knew when I saw my mother again she would recognize a change at once.

As we sat over dinner I said: “Joliffe, I don’t know you very well.”

He raised his eyebrows pretending to be shocked.

“So you have been living with a man whom you don’t know?”

“I know that I love you.”

“Well that’s good enough for me.”

“Joliffe, I want to talk seriously.”

“I am always serious with you, Jane.”

“I want to talk about practical things. Are you rich?”

He laughed. “I have to confess, Jane, that you are not married to a millionaire. Would you like the marriage annulled on the spot?”

He had said he was always serious but he was not. I could see that evasive look creeping into his face now.

“We have been living rather extravagantly here.”

“Every man is entitled to live extravagantly on his honeymoon.”

“So we shall economize when we go home?”

“Economize! What a dreary word. It won’t be so costly living in our own house in London as it is here in this hotel in Paris, if that’s what you mean.”

“What will it be like in London? We haven’t made any plans.”

“There have been so many more exciting things to do.”

“Yes, but it’s time we settled down.”

“First you want to economize then settle down. What a practical woman I’ve married.”

“Perhaps you should be glad of that. We have to consider the future.”

His eyes glowed as they looked into mine. “I find the present so entrancing. I’m letting the future take care of itself.”

“Joliffe, I think you’re a little feckless.”

“Guilty perhaps, but it has to be proved.”

“I think you’re evading the future.”

“What, when you’re in it!”

“Do you love me very much, Joliffe?”

“Infinitely.”

“Then everything will be all right. Have you a house in London?”

“I have a house in Kensington. Opposite the Park—the gardens you know, Kensington Gardens. It is very pleasant. A tall, somewhat narrow house and it is looked after by an excellent man and his wife.”

“And we shall live there?”

“When we are in London. I travel around a great deal in the course of my business.”

“Where?”

“All over the world. Europe and the East and to a place called Roland’s Croft. It was there that I made my truly great find. There I found my fortune.”

There was no way of making him talk very seriously. He wanted to avoid it. This was a night for love and how could I put any obstacle in its path?

Later he explained to me that he had inherited the London house from his parents and he had used it ever since as a pied-à-terre. Albert and Annie had been servants of his family for years. Annie had in fact been his nurse. They kept the house in order when he was away and looked after him when he was in London.

He had prepared them for the coming of his wife.

As for his business, I knew already what that was. He had been brought up in the tradition. If anything else had been chosen for him he would not have been able to do it.

“This hunting for articles which have such significance in beauty, history, legend whatever it is… it’s irresistible, Jane. Some men want to hunt the fox or the deer or the wild boar because the hunting instinct is inborn. I never wanted to hunt animals to the death. That seems to me a worthless object, but to unearth treasures which lay hidden from the world, that fascinated me, ever since I lived with my uncle and heard him and my cousin Adam talk of these things. Then when my uncle Sylvester was with them—they all worked together in those days—I would listen. I learned a good deal, and I promised myself that I would be the greatest collector of them all one day.”

“I understand perfectly,” I said. “I feel that too. Joliffe, I am going to help you. How glad I am that I have started to learn something. Not much I know for it’s a lifetime’s study. But you were pleased with me, weren’t you, when I recognized that scroll?”

“I was proud of you.”

“I owe all that to your uncle and when I think of that I am a little ashamed. He did so much for my mother and me—and then I left him.”

“Didn’t you know that a woman should forsake all others and cleave to her husband?”