“So do I,” he answered swiftly, with that glance of his eyes that made my lids fall.
My heart experienced an extraordinary contracted feeling, as though some one had taken hold of it and was holding it tightly. Then I remembered all the enigmatical sayings I had heard about this man, and his dangerous attraction for women, and in a moment I recovered myself and answered with a mocking smile:
“You have heard rumours of the great spread I am going to put before my sister-in-law’s guests to-night. It has got about what an excellent cook I am.”
He opened his lips, to make some further saying, but I gave him no time.
“Come and taste my Turkish coffee,” I said, and walked out with my jug, colliding with Mrs Valetta, who was evidently coming to look for us.
“You are wanted to play poker, Kim,” said she curtly. “Do play with me; you are always so lucky.”
“Ah, but I am going to be unlucky at cards in future,” he oddly answered as they followed me in.
I got more compliments for my coffee. Every one said it was delicious. Greedy people asked for second and even third cups. Colonel Blow was heard to state that he had never tasted anything like it since he was in Paris a hundred years ago.
“That is just where I learned to make it,” I said gaily. “In my racketty student days in the Quartier.”
Every one looked amazed and I suppose it was rather an amazing thing to say.