Margaret's own were well-shaped, but by no means small.
'The girl is in London, you say?' Her tone made a question of the statement.
'She was there two days ago, when I left. At least, she had been to see me that very morning. Almost as soon as she was gone I went out, and in the first shop I looked into I met Logotheti. It was Pinney's, the jeweller's, I remember, for I bought a collar stud. We came away together and walked some time, and he told me the Tartar girl's story. I asked him to dine to-day, but I was obliged to leave town suddenly, and so I had to put him off with a note. I daresay he's still in London.'
'I daresay he is,' Margaret repeated, and rising suddenly she went to the window.
Mr. Van Torp rose too, and thought of what he should say in taking his leave of her, for he felt that he had stayed long enough. Strange to say, too, he was examining his not very sensitive conscience to ascertain whether he had said anything not strictly true, but he easily satisfied himself that he had not. If all was fair in love and war, as the proverb said, it was certainly permissible to make use of the plain truth.
The Primadonna was still looking out of the window when the door opened and her English maid appeared on the threshold. Margaret turned at the sound. [{151}]
'What is it?' she asked quietly.
'There's Mr. Van Torp's man, ma'am,' answered Potts. 'He wants to speak to his master at once.'
'You had better tell him to come up,' Margaret answered. 'You may just as well see him here without going all the way downstairs,' she said, speaking to Van Torp.
'You're very kind, I'm sure,' he replied; 'but I think I'd better be going anyway.'