“Personally, he leaves me speechless.” Here Duplessis rose, and added with fatigue, “But I see we are not going to agree about Senhouse.”
She looked blankly before her. “No—obviously.” Mr. Germain asked her to sing, and she obeyed with alacrity. She sang prettily, but not well. Ordinarily she failed in attack; but under Duplessis’s watching brows it seemed that some new spirit had entered into her. She had never sung better.
The election came and was made, and John Germain, Esquire, of Southover House, triumphed over Mr. Leopold Levitt. The very next day the new Secretary of State (for all had gone well with the party) made his farewells, and took his private secretary with him. Tristram, wanting scope for magnanimity, had been morose since the Senhouse discussion.
She thanked him lightly “for helping us.” “Us!” to Duplessis.
But he gulped it. “I am glad to have been of any use. You’ll be in town for the session, of course.”
“I suppose so. We shall hope to see you.”
“Many thanks. You are not supposed to see through Secretaries of State—but Jess should be a good medium. So it’s arrivederci.”
She gave him her hand. “Good-bye—.” But he held it for a minute.
“We are friends again—after this?”
She withdrew. “Yes, indeed. Good-bye.”