Julie put her arm in Floyd’s.
“Let’s go and say good night to baby.”
Martin smiled at her transparent subterfuge. He looked down at Maud; a well-shaped head, correct features, eyes curious; the black stuff she used gave them the requisite look of the demi-mondaine. The glass beads around her neck were cheap; what there was of the gown was evidently designed and put together by herself. Her thin silk stockings were going in the seams; he was sure there were holes in the feet. He’d like to dress her well. Yes, she was a nice girl; he could easily be single with her for six months—but marriage?
Julie’s laugh rang out upstairs. Maud was conscious of being checked up.
“Well, what’s the verdict?”
“Will you let me say what I think?”
“Yes, if you let me do the same.”
“You will say more than you believe, I less.”
There was something fascinating in the fellow’s insolence.
“Legs, neck, shoulders, bust, perfect; the symmetry of thighs and limbs—classic; but you leave me cold.”