5
Of course people like this wore evening dress every day. You could only rest and think and talk and be happy without collars and sleeves—with the cool beaded leather against one’s neck and arms in the firelight....
She gazed familiarly into her companion’s eyes taking in her soft crimson silk evening dress with its wide folded belt of black velvet and the little knots of black about the square sleeves, as the eyes smiled long and easily into hers ... the smile of one of the girls at the Putney school, the same dark fringed caressing smiling eyes set in delicately bulging pale brown cheeks, the same little frizz of dark hair. She felt for the name, but could only recall the sense of the girl as she had sat, glints of fear and hard watchfulness in the beautiful eyes, trying to copy her neighbour’s exercise. This girl’s dull hair was fluffed cloudily, and there was no uneasiness in the eyes. Probably she too had been a duffer at school and had had to crib things. But she had left all that behind and her smile was—perfect.
“You look like an Oriental princess,” said Miriam, gazing.
Joey flushed and smiled more deeply, but without making the smallest movement.
“Do I, weally?”
“Exactly,” said Miriam, keeping her own pose with difficulty. She knew she had flung up her head and spoken emphatically. But the girl was such a wonderful effect—she wanted her to be able to see herself ... she was not quite of the same class as the Corries, or different, somehow. Miriam gazed on. Raising the large black cushion a little, turning her head and pressing her cheek into it, her eyes still on Miriam’s, Joey laughed a short contralto gurgle, bringing the sharp dimples and making her cheeks bulge slightly on either side of the chin.
“I brought it in from Rollo’s room,” she said. “I like bein’ in here. Rollo never comes in; but she always has a fire in here when she’s got people stoppin’. You can pop in here whenever you like when Felix isn’t at home. It’s jolly. I like it.”
Miriam looked into the fire and thought. Joey, too, liked talking to Mr. Corrie in his room when he was not there. He must be one of those charming sort of men, rather weak, who went on liking people. Joey was evidently an old friend of the family and still liked him. She evidently liked even to mention his name. He couldn’t be really anything much ... or perhaps Joey didn’t really know him at all. Joey did not live there. She came and went.
“Of course you haven’t seen Felix yet, have you?”
“No.”
Joey straightened her head on her pillow.
“It’s not the least use me tryin’ to describe him to you,” she breathed in broken tones.
Miriam struggled uneasily with her thoughts ... a leading Q.C.—about forty.... “Oh, do try,” she said, a little fearfully ... how vulgar ... just like a housemaid ... no; Wiggerson would never have said such a thing, nor asked at all. It was treachery to Mr. Corrie. If Joey said anything more about him she would never be able to speak to him freely.
“He’s divine,” said Joey, smiling into the fire.
How nice of Joey to be so free with her and want her to like him too ... the gong. They both rose and peered into the little strip of mirror in the small overmantel ... divine might mean anything ... divine ... oh, quite too utterly too-too ... greenery-yellery—Grosvenor-gallery—foot-in-the-grave young man.