She took care of her looks, that was evident. The waiter gone, Esther saw the Frenchwoman lean across to her companion with an obvious effort of self-control.
"Arthur—tell me once more. What is it, this job you speak of?"
"What, the Argentine? I don't know. The Toda woman wants to take me out there as a sort of manager or something. She sails on the eighth; she expects me to go with her."
"T'ck! I knew it!"
The beautiful woman's voice rose shrilly with a strident note which was an odd revelation.
"So that is it! Manager—ha, ha, ha! But, of course, I might have known, it is quite plain, she wants you for herself—the old cow! Naturellement!"
"S'sh, Thérèse, for God's sake——"
"Well, isn't it true? What can you do on a ranch? Why does she want you if not for herself? Do you deny it?"
"What's the use of denying anything? You'll believe what you want to believe."
He sounded cold, indifferent. The woman made an impulsive gesture.