'Frightfully pleased. I've started well. Though it's difficult to keep her alive if one doesn't talk to her and flirt with her; but I manage it.'
'And Mademoiselle Ludérac? Did you see her?'
'Yes, I saw her.' Graham stretched across and took the cup of tea Jill gave him.
'Really and truly saw her? Not out of doors in a mackintosh and black shawl?'
'She was in a black apron, arranging the room.'
'Is she just a sort of housekeeper, then? Do tell me what you thought about her.'
'She's rather beautiful, I think,' said Graham. 'She has beautiful hands, and beautifully shaped shoulders.'
'And beautiful eyes. I saw them the other day. They seemed to be all I did see. They are the sort of eyes one could never forget. The sort one sees sometimes in a picture, that follow you, you know; as if they wanted to say something; and couldn't.'
'Well, I didn't notice her eyes.'
'Did you talk to her?'
'We exchanged a word or two. She was quite civil and correct. And she went up and got the old lady's cosmetics and painted her face for her. It was rather pretty to see. She's good to the old vulture.'
'Painted her! But how marvellous, Dick! How I wish I could have seen it. Like a big baby having its face washed?'
'Exactly. It was rather touching.'
'I'm glad you were touched, Dick. It's what you need, you know,' Jill assured him, smiling at him—
