"
I found a good deal of gossip, but very little of it, indeed, seemed
to me at the time to be of importance. Dropping in at the St. Francis
Club, where I had some friends, I casually mentioned the troubles
of the Huntington Closes. I was surprised to learn that Close spent
little of his time at the Club, none at home, and only dropped into
the hospital to make formal inquiries as to his wife's condition. It
then occurred to me to drop into the office of _Society Squibs_, whose
editor I had long known. The editor told me, with that nameless look
of the cynical scandalmonger, that if I wanted to learn anything about
Huntington Close I had best watch Mrs. Frances Tulkington, a very
wealthy Western divorcee about whom the smart set were much excited,
particularly those whose wealth made it difficult to stand the pace of
society as it was going at present.
"And before the tragedy," said the editor with another nameless look,
as if he were imparting a most valuable piece of gossip, "it was the
talk of the town, the attention that Close's lawyer was paying to Mrs.
Close. But to her credit let me say that she never gave us a chance to
hint at anything, and--well, you know us; we don't need much to make
snappy society news."
The editor then waxed even more confidential, for if I am anything
at all, I am a good listener, and I have found that often by sitting
tight and listening I can get more than if I were a too-eager
questioner.
"It really was a shame the way that man Lawrence played his game," he
went on.
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