"Mrs. Perry! What's she got to do with our dinner? I'll tell you all I know with pleasure, but"
As Basil opened the outer door of the restaurant for her, Teresa smiled defiantly into his perplexed eyes.
"She came near spoiling our evening, I tell you! You know when I'm in a bad mood …"
"Oh, I know!"
He shook his head ruefully. They found their little table, with a bouquet of red and white carnations upon it, and the chairs tilted up. It stood next the wall, before a large mirror, which reflected all the pale colouring, shaded lights, and palm-trees of the room, and a vista of other rooms beyond. The place had a foreign air; nearly all the patrons spoke or tried to speak in French to the waiters, and when the orchestra began to play Strauss waltzes an air of gaiety diffused itself among the mixed crowd. By eight o'clock the room was full. Basil had ordered cocktails to begin their dinner and some good champagne. He liked Teresa to drink a little, for it made her gayer and more talkative, and her melancholy moods irritated him. To-night melancholy hung in the air for a time. Teresa looked vaguely about the room and seemed to be half-listening, half-dreaming. But suddenly her eyes brightened, she leaned forward, smiling at Basil, and began to talk.
