He followed her across the room to the Boldini portrait of herself, which was dazzling in its malicious flattery.
"And here's a Nicholson," she said.
Those three portraits were the most striking pictures in the salon , but there were others of at least equal value.
"Are you interested in fans?" she demanded, and pulled down a switch which illuminated the interior of a large cabinet full of fans. She pointed out fans painted by Lami, Glaize, Jacquemart. "That one is supposed to be a Lancret," she said. "But I'm not sure about it, and I don't know anybody that is. Here's the latest book on the subject." She indicated Lady Charlotte Schreiber's work in two volumes which, bound in vellum and gold, lay on a table. "But of course it only deals with English fans. However, Conder is going to do me a couple. He was here yesterday to see me about them. Of course you know him. What a wonderful man! The only really cosmopolitan artist in England, I say, now Beardsley's dead. I've got a Siegfried drawing by Beardsley. He was a great friend of mine. I adored him."
"
This is a fine thing," said George, touching a bronze of a young girl on the same table as the books.
"You think so?" Miss Wheeler responded uncertainly. "I suppose it is . It's a Gilbert. He gave it me. But do you really think it compares with this Barye? It doesn't, does it?" She directed him to another bronze of a crouching cheetah.
So she moved him about. He was dazed. His modest supply of adjectives proved inadequate. When she paused, he murmured:
"It's a great room you've managed to get here."
"Ah!" she cried thinly. "But you've no idea of the trouble I've had over this room. Do you know it's really two rooms. I had to take two flats in order to fix this room."