I've been out of town, amusing myself until my apartment was ready. I can't stand too much of Sylvia; she gets on my nerves. Do you know her?
Not very well.
I'm about fed up with her. She whines. So I went to Atlantic City.
But your apartment?
Oh, that was all arranged while I was away. I merely told a decorator what I wanted, et voila! She made such a gesture with her hand as, on the stage, Jane Cowl would have made after such a phrase. He had seen the actress do this. With the grand manner in real life he was more unfamiliar.
Directly've done an errand, she went on, I'm going back there. Will you come with me?
Ask me!
Byron felt soothed, smoothed the right way, for the first time in weeks. Luxury, as a matter of fact always soothed him when he did not resent its implications. Somehow with Lasca he resented nothing. She was rich, amusing, soft to the touch, beautiful, sympathetic, fragrant with what he supposed to be the latest perfume from Paris.
When the motor stopped before a smart dressmaker's on Fifty-seventh Street, Lasca got out of the car and entered the shop. She returned in exactly ten minutes.
They've just received some new importations from Paris. I've found two gowns that will do.
