Some men and women [antikvár]

SOME MEN AND WOMEN THE CALL Helen Ackerington lay, fully dressed, on her half of the Jacobean four-post bed which had been her present to herself last Christmas. Like almost all the young married women belonging to the having-some-how-profited-by-the-war strata of society, she was now an eager collector of old furniture. It was close on half-past six, and so quite dark on this December evening; but she had not cared to turn up the light. The fashionable nerve-specialist of the moment had told her that she ought to take off her clothes and rest, for at least an hour, between tea and dinner. But after a few days she had given up practising the first part of his prescription. For one thing, it was too much of what she called to herself "a bore"; for another, she was aware that her condition had nothing to do with what the specialist, smiling down into the face of one who was still a delightfully pretty woman, had described as her " fiipperty-gibberty, rackety life,"