“Well—thank you!”
She brought in a little pot of tea with two little cups, and a silver box of cigarettes on a little tray.
“Sugar? Miss Forsyte has much sugar—she buy my sugar, my friend's sugar also. Miss Forsyte is a veree kind lady. I am happy to serve her. You her brother?”
“Yes,” said Jon, beginning to puff the second cigarette of his life.
“Very young brother,” said the Austrian, with a little anxious smile, which reminded him of the wag of a dog's tail.
“May I give you some?” he said. “And won't you sit down, please?”
The Austrian shook her head.
“Your father a very nice old man—the most nice old man I ever see. Miss Forsyte tell me all about him. Is he better?”
Her words fell on Jon like a reproach. “Oh Yes, I think he's all right.”
“I like to see him again,” said the Austrian, putting a hand on her heart; “he have veree kind heart.”