Madame Boleski swept towards them on the arm of an Austrian Prince and the Russian Verisschenzko said, with suave politeness:
"Madame, let me present you to Lady Ardayre. With me she has been admiring you from afar."
The two women bowed, and with cheery, disarming simplicity, the American made some gracious remarks in a voice which sounded as if she smoked too much; it was not disagreeable in tone, nor had she a pronounced American accent.
Amaryllis Ardayre found herself interested. She admired the superb attention to detail shown in Madame Boleski's whole person. Her face was touched up with the lightest art, not overdone in any way. Her hair, of that very light tone bordering on gold, which sometimes goes with hazel eyes, was quite natural and wonderfully done. Her dress was perfection—so were her jewels. One saw that her corsetière was an artist, and that everything had cost a great deal of money. She had taken off one glove and Amaryllis saw her bare hand—it was well-shaped, save that the thumb turned back in a remarkable degree.
"So delighted to meet you," Madame Boleski said. "We are going over to
London next month and I am just crazy to know more of you delicious
English people."
They chatted for a few moments and then Madame Boleski swept onwards. She was quite stately and graceful and had a well-poised head. Amaryllis turned to the Russian and was startled by the expression of fierce, sardonic amusement in his yellow-green eyes.
"But surely, she can see that you are laughing at her?" she exclaimed, astonished.
"It would convey nothing to her if she did."
"But you looked positively wicked."
"Possibly—I feel it sometimes when I think of Stanislass; he was a very good friend of mine."