[The] four "short novels" which Miss Rebecca West has collected under the title of The Harsh Voice are a significant expression of current truths, though she may not be the first to make their significance real. Some of the current truths upon which she has most firmly seized are these: that in love and marriage today the intermingling of love and hate has taken on a new complexity, partly on account of changes in manners and the variable economic conditions, particularly in America; [and] that America in particular has evolved a new kind of woman, extremely capable, "hard-boiled," influential, but certainly not devoid of feminine feelings…. All four stories are about rich people; three are about Americans; three are principally about problems of the married; and in all may be heard that "harsh voice we hear when money talks, or hate." It is noticeable that with one exception Miss West accords her women justice, mercy and admiration, and that she seems to find them definitely more important and worthy of respect and affection than the men, who leave an impression that they are little more than foils to the women, than commercial and domestic functionaries—with one exception, who is dominated by vanity. This exception appears in the most brilliant and characteristic of the four stories, the one called "There is no Conversation." It shows to the best advantage Miss West's sophistication, her respect for wealth and power, and her ingenuity and resourcefulness as a story-teller…. Two individuals belonging to entirely different worlds are brought by chance into a close association…. The Marquis de Sevenac, at luncheon with some Americans in Paris, was "thrown back on" a Mrs. Sarle, who did not seem to him what in fact she was, an extremely shrewd woman of big business. Being at the time in a state of loneliness and frustrated tenderness, he conceived a sentimental affection for her, to which, in her own more cautious and much more serious way, she responded. He failed her, and she was left in a position where she felt bound to avenge herself. So much for the situation. How does Miss West manage it? She contrives that the narrator shall be so placed as to get from each of the leading actors their own version of the affair, and the result is a highly sardonic revelation of the obtuseness of the mondain male, and of the Napoleonic nature of the female whom he had actually presumed to pity. Another of the stories is an exposure of the dreadfulness of being good: "Alice," a man tells his wife, "you're the salt of the earth…. The point is that nobody likes having salt rubbed into their wounds…." Another provides a pleasing portrait of a chorus-girl turned faithful mistress. These stories are likely to be read by those who care for excellent writing, acuteness and wit, applied to the "seizure of certain current truths." I cannot help feeling that Henry James would have been interested to find an English writer so extraordinarily knowledgeable about certain of his compatriots, and so sympathetic towards them.