And now he was off on some tangent from which it would need all her coaxing wit to divert him. With wide eyes painfully intent, her little, jeweled fingers very still in their locked grip in her lap, the color draining from her cheeks, she sat waiting for the revelation.
What was it all? Had he really decided upon something? Upon some one?
Tewfick Pasha appeared in no hurry to inform her. He wandered rather confusedly into a rambling speech about her age and her position and the responsibilities of life and his inabilities to prevent their reaching her, and about his very tender affection for her and his understanding of all those girlish reticences and reluctances which made innocent youth so exquisite, while silently his daughter hung her head and wondered what he would be saying if he knew that she had broken every canon of seclusion and convention, had talked and danced with a man....
His astonishment would be so horrific that she flinched even from the thought.
And if he knew, moreover, that this man had caught her and kissed her—!
She told herself that she was disgraced for life. She had a dreamy desire to close her eyes and lean back and dream on about that disgrace....
But she must listen to her father. He was talking now about the powers of wealth, not merely the nominal riches of his somewhat precarious political affiliations, but solid, sustaining, invested and invulnerable wealth.
Unexpectedly Aimée laughed. "He must be very plain," she declared, her face brightening with mockery, "if you take so long to tell me his name!"
Not, she added to herself under her breath, that any name would weigh a feather's difference!
"On the contrary," and the pasha's eyes met hers frankly for the first time and he seemed delighted to indulge a laugh, "he has the reputation of good looks. He is much à la mode."