“Be still, imbecile. Madame, shall I have the clock taken to my launch for you?”
“Oh, don’t deprive the old man of his charm against the evil eye, aunt,” said Jacqueline lightly, half pitying, half mocking the old servant’s distress.
“I would remind Miss Quintard that it is I who am deprived of the charm, if there is any, and not Luigi,” laughed the duke.
“I would be the last one to bring you ill fortune,” jested Mrs. Gordon. Then very slowly, “But I intend to bring you good fortune, not to take it away from you.”
“I am hoping precisely for that,” said the duke gravely, and looked at Jacqueline.
Jacqueline was still kneeling before the clock.
“How I should like to know what you really mean, foolish legend,” she said wistfully.
I leaned on the table and stooped toward her.
“If one were to run down that legend, it would require patience and perseverance enough to satisfy even you, would it not, Jacqueline?” I asked lightly.
She smiled, but seeing that I was half in earnest, became serious.