“Mr. and Mrs. Byrd! How do you do?” she murmured, and her voice was light-breathed, a mere memory of sound. It suggested that she customarily mislaid it, and recaptured only an echo.
“Pull that other couch a little nearer, please,” she waved to Stefan, appropriating the one from which they had just risen. Upon this she stretched her full length, propping the cushions comfortably under her shoulders.
“Do you smoke?” she breathed, and stretching an arm produced from a hidden drawer in the table at her elbow cigarettes in a box of black lacquer, and matches in one of red. Mary declined, but Stefan immediately lighted a cigarette for himself and held a match for Miss Berber. Mary and he settled themselves on the couch which he drew up, and which slipped readily over the tiles.
“Now we can talk,” exhaled their hostess on a spiral of smoke. “I never see strangers in the morning, not even friends of dear Connie's, but there was something in the name—” She seemed to be fingering a small knob protruding from the lacquer of her couch. It must have been a bell, for in a moment the green maiden appeared.
“Chloris, has that picture come for the sylvan fitting room?” she murmured. “Yes? Bring it, please.” Her gesture seemed to waft the damsel over the floor. During this interlude the Byrds were silent, Stefan hugely entertained, Mary beginning to feel a slight antagonism toward this super-casual dressmaker.
A moment and the attendant nymph reappeared, bearing a large canvas framed in glistening green wood.
“Against the table—toward Mr. Byrd.” Miss Berber supplemented the murmur with an indicative gesture. “You know that?” dropped from her lips as the nymph glided away.
It was Stefan's pastoral of the dancing faun. He nodded gaily, but Mary felt herself blushing. Her husband's work destined for a fitting room!
“I thought so,” Miss Berber enunciated through a breath of smoke. “I picked it up the other day. Quite lovely. My sylvan fitting room required just that note. I use it for country raiment only. Atmosphere, Mr. Byrd. I want my clients to feel young when they are preparing for the country. I am glad to see you here.”
Stefan reciprocated. So far, Miss Berber had ignored Mary.