She glanced up with a smile.
"No," she said, "it will rest me."
He heard her singing to them afterward, and later, when she went to her dressing-room, he heard the pretty lullaby die away gradually as she moved through the corridor.
When she appeared again she was dressed for dinner, and came in buttoning her glove, and at the sight of her he uttered an exclamation of pleasure.
"What a perfect dress!" he said. "What is the idea? There must be one."
She paused and turned slowly round so that he might obtain the full effect.
"You should detect it," she replied. "It is meant to convey one."
"It has a kind of dove-like look," he said.
She faced him again.
"That is it," she said, serenely. "In the true artist spirit, I have attired myself with a view to expressing the perfect candor and simplicity of my nature. Should you find it possible to fear or suspect me of ulterior motives—if you were a senator, for instance?"