Mrs. Falkener turned to Crane.
"I think you will have trouble with that boy," she said. "He is inclined to be impertinent."
Crane looked at the boy over her head, and the boy, out of a pair of twinkling gray eyes, looked back. They both managed to look away again before a smile had been actually exchanged, but Crane found himself making use for the third time of his favorite formula:
"Oh, I think I'll find him all right."
Mrs. Falkener, remembering the pitiable weakness of men, again waved her hand.
"They may go now," she said to Reed, who hastily shepherded the four back again into the back office. When they were alone, she turned to Crane and said with the utmost conviction:
"My dear Burton, none of those servants will do—except the butler, who appears to be a thoroughly competent person. But those young women—they may have been anything. Did you not observe that their nails had been manicured?"
Crane stammered slightly, for the fact had not escaped him, in connection, at least, with one of the young women.
"Don't—don't cooks ever manicure their nails?" he said. "It seems rather a good idea to me."
Reed, who was once more approaching, caught these last words.