The effect of the dress was simplicity itself. There was not a superfluous ruffle or ribbon. Its sole design was not to attract attention to itself, but to reveal the superb charms of the woman who wore it, with every breath she breathed, every step, and every gesture.
The rhythmic music of her walk—quick, strong, luxurious—breathed an excess of vitality. The full lips were smiling and her cheeks aflame with pleasure at his admiration.
Her eyes spoke straight into his with a candour that was unmistakable. They knew what they desired and said so aloud. They had thrown scruples to the winds, and in untamed, primeval strength gazed on life with daring freedom.
Overman stammered and cleared his throat, bowed, and blushed.
She took both his hands cordially and smiled into his face.
“Why didn’t you come back to see me this week?”
He hesitated, disconcerted.
“I know,” she went on rapidly, leading him to a lounge by the fire.
“You saw the jealousy in Frank’s big baby face and you stayed away—now, honestly!”
He pulled nervously at his moustache and his eye twinkled.