Sir Evelyn did not think it would, and tried to say so politely.
"I see what you mean," said Mrs. Eames. "My figure, of course. It's too plump for even a well-to-do smuggler. What you want is someone lean. Now if poor Timothy were here—— But he's too mild-looking for a smuggler. It is a pity about my figure."
She surveyed her own legs with a good-humoured smile.
"It's not that," said Sir Evelyn, though it was. "All I meant to say is that I'd like to take a separate photograph of you afterwards, a portrait."
He felt that he had been rude, and there was nothing he disliked more than failing in courtesy to a woman.
Mrs. Eames clapped her hands.
"For publication, of course," she said. "'Mrs. Eames takes a dip at Deauville.' We must say Deauville. Beth knows all about these things, being a journalist herself; and she says that this sort of photo practically must be at Deauville if it's to get into any really smart paper."
"But do you want that?"
"Of course I do," said Mrs. Eames, "and it won't do to say 'Mrs. Eames taking a dip,' even at Deauville. We'll say 'Agatha Eames,' and then if people don't know who I am they'll feel they ought to and pretend they do. Or perhaps 'Lady Agatha Eames.' I don't think there'd be any harm in that, do you? 'Lady Agatha Eames in the smartest of chic bathing suits taking her morning dip at Deauville. Photo'd by Sir Evelyn Dent.' You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"I don't think I should," said Sir Evelyn, rather alarmed. "In fact, I'm sure I shouldn't."