“No. That is, I don’t think so.”
“Do you know her?”
“No.”
“It would be a kind thing if someone told her that there are other places in Switzerland where she will command the general admiration she deserves.”
“I am inclined to believe that there is a man in the hotel who can put that notion before her delicately.”
Spencer possessed the unchanging gravity of expression that the whole American race seems to have borrowed from the Red Indian. Mrs. de la Vere’s eyes twinkled as she gazed at him.
“You didn’t hear what was said last night,” she murmured. “Where Millicent Jaques is concerned, delicacy is absent from Mr. Bower’s make-up—is that good New York?”
“It would be understood.”
This time he smiled. Mrs. de la Vere wished to be a friend to Helen. Whatsoever her motive, the wish was excellent.