"That's fine," she replied. "Now tell me how you're getting on with Lavery's?"
He chatted to her for a while about the House, communicating to her something of his enthusiasm but not touching upon any of his difficulties. Then he asked her what she had been doing in France. She replied: "Combining business with pleasure."
"How?"
"Well, you see, first of all I bought back from my father's publishers all transcription rights. (They'd never used them themselves). Then, with the help of a French friend, I translated one or two of the Helping-Hand-Books into French and placed them with a Paris agent. Business you see. He disposed of them fairly, advantageously, and on part of the proceeds I treated myself to a holiday. I had an excellent time. Now I've come back to Millstead to translate a few more of my father's books."
"But you're continuing to run the shop, I suppose?"
"I've brought over my French friend to do that for me. She's a clever girl with plenty of brains and no money. She speaks English perfectly. In the daytime she'll do most of the shop-work for me and she'll always be handy to help me with translations. You must meet her—you'll find her most outrageously un-English."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that she's not sentimental."
By the time that he had digested that a tap came at the door.
"That's Helen!" said Speed, joyously, recognising the quiet double rap. He felt delightfully eager to see the meeting of the two friends. Helen entered. Clare rose. Speed cried, like an excited youngster: "Helen, we've got a visitor. Who do you think it is?"