'And now I must buy the lunch,' she said. 'I must go myself. Excuse me.'
She disappeared into the adjoining room, the bedroom, and Henry could hear the fracas of silk and stuff. 'What do you eat for lunch?' she cried out.
'Anything,' Henry called in reply.
'Oh! Que les hommes sont bêtes!' she murmured, her voice seemingly lost in the folds of a dress. 'One must choose. Say.'
'Whatever you like,' said Henry.
'Rumsteak? Say.'
'Oh yes,' said Henry.
She reappeared in a plain black frock, with a reticule in her hand, and at the same moment a fox-terrier wandered in from somewhere.
'Mimisse!' she cried in ecstasy, snatching up the animal and kissing it. 'You want to go with your mamma? Yess. What do you think of my fox? She is real English. Elle est si gentille avec sa mère! Ma Mimisse! Ma petite fille! My little girl! Dites, mon ami'—she abandoned the dog—'have you some money for our lunch? Five francs?'
'That enough?' Henry asked, handing her the piece.