"Philip is teaching me to speak French. It is so droll, and he laughs at my accent. Can you speak French, Clo?"
"A little. No doubt he would laugh at my accent if he ever heard it."
"Oh, I do not think so! He could not, could he? Clo, I asked if he did not think you were very beautiful, and he said—"
"Jenny, you must not ask things like that!"
"He did not mind! Truly, he did not! He just laughed—he is always laughing, Clo!—and said that there was no one who did not think so. Was not that neat?"
"Very," said Cleone.
Jennifer drew nearer.
"Cleone, may I tell you a secret?"
A fierce pain shot through Cleone.
"A secret? What is it?" she asked quickly.