"Miss Pinsent," said he, with his overworked but still expressive smile, "is just exactly what you happen to find her. But if you call often enough, there'll come a time when you'll find her with a good head on her shoulders."
Alice felt vaguely sorry for Mr. Hazlewood; it must be wearing to deal with such unstable quantities. She could imagine herself exchanging sympathy with him on the vagaries of the artistic temperament; would she grow a wrinkle, of brow or of heart, over Ashley Mead? Or had she grown one?
"Well, you've had a lot of experience of her, haven't you?" she asked, laughing, and wondering what he thought of Ora. His answer expressed no great affection.
"Good Lord, yes," he sighed, furrowing his brow again.
Ora darted up to him, put an arm through his, and clasped her hands over his sleeve.
"Abusing me?" she said, turning her face round to his. For a moment Alice thought that she was going to kiss him and hoped vaguely she would not; but she felt that she did not know the etiquette; it might be usual.
"Telling the truth," said Mr. Hazlewood with stout courage; then with pronounced gallantry he raised his arm with Ora's hands on it and kissed one of the hands; his manner now was quite different from his business manner of a few moments ago; his eyes were different too, hardly affectionate, but very indulgent.
"He likes me really, you know, though I worry him dreadfully," said Ora to Alice.
Babba came up; he had been arranging the big flower before a mirror.
"Seen Lady Kilnorton lately? She's brought it off with Bowdon, I hear," he said to Alice.