"A 'ero. The world is full of 'eros to-day, but not one like my 'Arry 'Orton. Allons! I mus' 'ave a talk with you alone. Lucien," she said sharply, turning to Valcourt, "I will come to de studio to-morrow. Monsieur le Duc t'inks I am gone away, but now I would be a poor creature not to give my brave soldier a welcome."
"If Monsieur will excuse me——" said Valcourt, offering his hand.
Jim Horton took it, wondering where the adventure was to lead. She was a very remarkable person and her élan had already carried him off his feet. Taking his hand in hers, with a charming simplicity, she led him into the room at the rear, now occupied by a number of persons of both sexes, and bade Monsieur Javet himself serve them. And when they were seated at a table, her hand still in his, she examined him with a new interest.
"It is indeed you," she said gayly, "and yet you seem different—more calm, more silent. What is it?"
"I've had two months in the hospital."
"And you're quite strong again?"
"Oh yes. And you have been well—Piquette?"
"Well—but so ennuyée. It is why I come back here to de Quartier to get a breath of fresh air. I've been posing for Monsieur Valcourt—La Liberté. He says my figure is better than ever. And Valcourt knows."
"I'm sure you are very lovely."
"La, la, mon vieux, but you are the grand serieux. Of course I am lovely. It is my business. But you do not show me 'ow lovely I am, for you are so quiet—so cool——"