“Since Eve, has that not been woman’s part in the human comedy?” He was almost certain that her lips became firmer. “Smile, if you wish. It is not prohibitory here.”
It was evident that the smile had been struggling for existence, for it endured to the fulness of half a minute. She had fine teeth. He scrutinized her more closely, and she bore it well. The forehead did not make for beauty; it was too broad and high, intellectual. Her eyes were splendid. There was nothing at all ordinary about her. His sense of puzzlement renewed itself and deepened. What did she want of him? There were other men, other vacant chairs.
“Monsieur is certain about the taxicab?”
“Absolutely.”
“Ah, it is to emulate Saint Anthony!”
“There are several saints of that name. To which do you refer?”
“Positively not to him of Padua.”
Courtlandt laughed. “No, I can not fancy myself being particularly concerned about bambini. No, my model is Noah.”
“Noah?” dubiously.
“Yes. At the time of the flood there was only one woman in the world.”