"Flattery," she commented. "But I love it!"
Meanwhile her gaze, that seemed so constant to his eyes, reviewed other people in the lounge in one swift, searching glance, and returned to Lanyard with a droop of the lashes, imperceptible to all but him, that signified there was no one present likely in her esteem to prove dangerous to their peace of mind.
"Flattery? To you? But impossible!"
He delighted her, and she showed it openly. But her lips said only: "Have I kept you waiting a frightfully long time, poor boy?"
"Let your appetite accuse you, Athenais."
"But I am starving!"
"Then, as I take it, nothing on earth can prevent our going in to dinner."
Lanyard had already consulted with the maître d'hôtel over the menu and the reservation. As the two settled down at a table on the side of the room, not conspicuously far from any other in use, and at the same time comfortably detached, their iced melon was waiting to be served.
"Always the most thoughtful of men," Mademoiselle Reneaux declared. "No fussing with the carte, no thrusting it into one's hand and saying: 'See anything you'd like, my dear? I rather fancy the boeuf-à-la-mode for myself!' That's why I'd adore dining with you, Paul, even if I didn't adore you for yourself."
"One is well repaid when one's modest efforts are so well appreciated."