“They are all well at home? You brought Julia with you?”
“No, I did not bring Julia; she can come across in a few days by herself.”
“Ah, yes, we can talk of that later.”
Then Madame Raumonier made another effort to escape.
“I am sure you would like to be alone with madame, your wife. I have quite finished breakfast. If you wish to see me will you intimate through madame the landlady? May I wish you good morning, madame?”
Regina rose and ceremoniously shook hands with the Frenchwoman; Alfred bowed, followed her across the room, stayed a moment talking, bowed again, rubbed his hands, and came back with that curious air of a conqueror with which a man meets a woman who is much to him on all occasions after a parting.
“Queenie, my darling, thank God that woman’s gone. I must apologize to you,” and here he put his hand over hers and held it very close, “I must apologize to you for having, of necessity, made her known to you. She is not a person for you to know; she’s—she’s a woman with a history.”
“Then, Alfred,” said Regina, not moving her hand, but looking at him with eyes which were like the eyes of the angel with the naming sword. “Then, Alfred, if she is not fit for me to know, what does she do here with you?”