"Her lips are unsealed at last!" he exclaimed, beaming. "And I say, Konrad, what pretty lips she has! I like those long teeth that make the upper lip say to the lower, 'If you won't kiss when I do, I'll have a separation.' Do you see what I mean, Konrad, you dullard?"
Lilly could not help laughing heartily, and at once they were on the best of terms. Even Konrad's dear, haggard face lighted up for a moment with a reassuring smile which did her heart good. For his sake she could almost have thrown herself under his uncle's feet, so dearly did she love him. And with a feeling of rising triumph she thought, "I'll just show him how awfully nice I can be to the old curmudgeon."
It was not so difficult, after all. When she looked at his round, puckered, mischievous old face, with the keen shrewd grey eyes and the beautifully waved snow-white wig--it was actually a wig peaked on the forehead and brushed into two outstanding curls over his ears like a judge's--she felt more and more that he was a good and tried comrade, with whom she had often had good times in the past. And yet she had certainly never met him before.
He had a masterful air of breeding about him, despite his plebeian exterior. His choice of the menu was simply admirable. The 'sixty-eight Steinberger, which flowed into the crystal glasses like liquid amber, suited the blue trout to such perfection that it might have been their native element; and the sweet-bread patties à la Montgelas were worthy accompaniments. Neither Richard nor any of his crew understood so well the gourmet's art.
If only he had not drunk whisky so perpetually in between!
"My brain has been so deadened by money-making," he said in justification, "I am obliged to give it a fillip now and then, or it would become completely dulled."
With the punch à la romaine, a brief and vivacious debate arose as to the merits of certain American drinks, in which Lilly, with her extensive knowledge of bars and beverages, scored. She even knew the exact ingredients of her host's speciality, the "South Sea Bowl," in which sherry, cognac, angostura bitters, with the yolks of eggs and Château d'Yquem, or, if necessary, moselle, contributed to make a fiery mixture. She went so far as to offer to prepare this curious mixture for him after dinner with the skill of an expert, so that he would have to confess he had never drunk anything more delicious between Singapore and Melbourne.
Konrad, who obviously had never suspected her genius in this direction, listened to her with an amazement that filled her with pride. She telegraphed to him one secret signal after the other, asking, "Aren't you pleased? Am I not being very, very nice to him?"
But somehow he would not respond. He was silent and absent-minded, and it often seemed as if he did not belong to the party.
"Well, he may dream if he likes," she thought blissfully. "I'll look after our interests."