"And his wife," added Lorimer.
"And his wife," repeated de Lussac. "I never saw her looking so lovely. Raphael might have drawn the oval of her face, Murillo her eyes, Titian her hair, Rubens her shoulders."
"And a modern English painter the sadness of her brow," said Lorimer. "Doesn't she look bored, poor woman?"
"That puts the finishing touch, and helps to make her superb—ideal. A calm, cold, sad face is the one mieux portée in England. It is almost de rigueur. Nothing is such bad form as to appear to enjoy life. She is quite à la mode."
"A la mort," said Lorimer. "My dear fellow, I'll tell you what it is, such parties as this give me shivers down the back. Your countrywoman, Madame Vigée-Lebrun, was right when she said, 'The English amuse themselves as the French bore themselves.'"
"Then why do you come here, old fellow?"
"Oh, I! Why, I come as a doctor. I am deeply interested in a special case. I am studying and following carefully the progress of a malady. I am here diagnosing."
"And your patient is" ...
"Our worthy host," said Lorimer.
"How do you find him to-day?"