He was clearly taken aback when he saw Lilly. His eyes widened with polite amazement.
Consciousness that she had made an impression gave her back her self-assurance and sang-froid. Not in vain had she gone through Fräulein von Schwertfeger's training.
"The introduction of a mutual friend, who has, I think, prepared you for my visit, brings me to you," she began, inwardly rejoiced to have a chance once more of playing the great lady.
In a mirror hanging opposite Lilly saw with satisfaction the reflection of her heliotrope toque, with its wreath of violets and swathing of tulle, her heliotrope tailor-made costume, with its correctly cut long coat, and felt as if she had stepped out of the picture of a society portrait-painter.
In silence he offered her a chair. The surprise that his manner had at first shown was succeeded by an air of distrustful perplexity. Apparently he was puzzled as to her social rank.
His head was inclined slightly to the left, as if it were stiff from a recent attack of rheumatism. This pose increased Lilly's suspicion that he did not altogether trust her.
She looked down at her brocaded wrist-bag and pretended to be suppressing a smile.
He grew more embarrassed. "May I ask," he stammered, "who the mutual friend ... er ... is? I don't seem to ... recollect."
He turned over the visiting-card, which his clerk had handed to him, in desperation.
She shrank from being forced into mentioning the name of her former lover, and so exposing her shame to this man who lived behind china flower-pots.