CHAPTER IV
DISASTER
Left alone, Mademoiselle de Bromsart finished the all but completed piece of embroidery in her lap. It did not take her five minutes. Then she held up the work and reviewed it with lips slightly pursed, then she rolled it up, rose, and went off to the state-room of Madame de Warens to bid her good-night.
Madame was sitting up in her bunk reading Maurice Barres’ “Greco.” The air of the place was stifling with the fume of cigarettes, and the girl nearly choked as she closed the door and stood facing the old lady in the bunk.
“Why don’t you smoke, then you wouldn’t mind it,” cried the latter, putting her book down and taking off her glasses. “No, I won’t have a port opened, d’you want me to be blown out of my bunk? Sit down.”
“No, I won’t stay,” replied the other, “I just came to say good-night—and tell you something—He asked me to marry him.”
“Who—Selm?”
“Yes.”
“And what did you say?”