As to Mr. Mitchell, Madame Frabelle drew him out with more care and caution. With the obstinacy of the mistaken she still saw in Mr. Mitchell's friendly looks at his hostess a passion for Edith, and shook her grey head over the blindness of the poor dear wife.
Bruce hung on her words and was open-mouthed while she spoke, so impressed was he at her wonderful cleverness, and at her evident success with his friends.
Later on Landi, sitting in the ingle-nook with Edith, said, as he puffed a cigar:
'Tiens, ma chère Edith, tu ne vois pas quelque chose?'
'What?'
He always talked French, as a middle course between Italian and English, and Edith spoke her own language to him.
'Elle. La Mère Frabelle,' he laughed to himself. 'Elle est folle de ton mari!'
'Oh, really, Landi! That's your fancy!'
He mimicked her. 'Farncy! Farncy! Je me suis monté l'imagination, peut-être! J'ai un rien de fièvre, sans doute! C'est une idée que j'ai, comme ça. Eh bien! Non! Nous verrons. Je te dis qu'elle est amoureuse de Bruce.'
'He is very devoted to her, I know,' said Edith, 'and I daresay he's a little in love with her—in a way. But she—'