Orsino laughed a little, and as Madame d'Aragona's eyes met his, the red lips smiled, without parting.
"He is always laughing at me," she said pleasantly.
Gouache was painting with great alacrity. The smile was becoming to her and he caught it as it passed. It must be allowed that she permitted it to linger, as though she understood his wish, but as she was looking at Orsino, he was pleased.
"If you will permit me to say it, Madame," he observed, "I have never seen eyes like yours."
He endeavoured to lose himself in their depths as he spoke. Madame d'Aragona was not in the least annoyed by the remark, nor by the look.
"What is there so very unusual about my eyes?" she enquired. The smile grew a little more faint and thoughtful but did not disappear.
"In the first place, I have never seen eyes of a golden-yellow colour."
"Tigers have yellow eyes," observed Madame d'Aragona.
"My acquaintance with that animal is at second hand—slight, to say the least."
"You have never shot one?"