“And is she so strikingly lovely?”
“I suppose she is; but she is so full of airs and graces she irritates one almost past endurance.”
“I’m afraid you are a severe critic. The way is made too smooth for you.”
She had moved near to him again, and stood beside him with one hand resting lightly on the mantelpiece, and one foot on the fender. He was standing as usual with his back to the fire. He looked down into her upturned face, fascinating now from a touch of roguishness.
“The splendid knight is hard to please; mere beauty is too commonplace.”
“Isn’t it sure to be?” a little smile played round his lips as he made his gallant retort. “How can mere beauty ever appeal to me, who have been accustomed to all you have besides?”
“Ah, flatterer!…” she said softly, and smiled into the fire.
There was a tense moment in which he longed to bend down and kiss her as he had done when the room was full of violets, but instead he pulled himself up sharply and moved away.
“Well, I must be off. Perhaps tonight I shall have the luck to be able to look at her from a distance, and not strike the jarring note. I’ll try to come in tomorrow to see what you have decided, and then I’ll run down on Friday afternoon for a long weekend, to see that you are taking decent care of yourself.” As an afterthought he added: “I suppose Hal couldn’t get off?”
“I’ll ask her if you like. She would love it, if she could.”