“Never!” It was energetic. “You would spoil it all.”
“Will it hurt it any to be my house?” he asked, a little sore.
“You know it is not that.” She laid her hand on his arm affectionately. “We shall tell him all about it some day; but now, just now, while he is making up his mind, it would distract him. He wants to look at them as art.”
Uncle William sighed gently. “Well, I’ll do my best, but it’s goin’ agen’ nature not to bust right out with it.” They passed into the larger room. On the opposite side the man was standing, his eyeglasses on his nose, looking expectantly toward the door.
When he saw them, he smiled and moved forward with suave grace.
XVIII
They met midway in the room. The two tall men stood facing each other, overtopping the crowd. The Frenchman held out his hand. “I am glad to meet you,” he said.
Uncle William took the thin hand in his hearty one. “I am glad to meet you,” he responded. “Sergia’s been tellin’ me about you. She said you liked the picter over yonder.” Uncle William’s thumb described the arc of a circle.
The Frenchman’s eye followed it. “I do,” he said, cordially. “Don’t you?”