"Quite right!"
"I remember being very much impressed by it at the time.... Yours must be particularly interesting work?"
"The work one likes best is always peculiarly interesting. That's happiness—to have the work one likes best."
Seeing that Rivière was genuinely interested, she began to dilate on her work, explaining something of its technique, telling of its peculiar difficulties. She showed him her sketches taken at Arles; mentioned Orange, for its Roman arch and theatre, as a stopping-place on her return journey to Paris. There was a glow in her voice that told clearly of her absorption in her chosen work.
Rivière was enjoying the frank camaraderie of their conversation. Suddenly the thought of the newspaper cutting came back to him sharply. If Olive had inserted that advertisement, she must have some special reason for it. Perhaps she wanted to communicate with him in reference to the "death" of Matheson. Some hotel-keeper or railway-guard would no doubt have seen the advertisement and answered it, letting her know of Rivière's stay at Arles.
It would be prudent to write and allay suspicion. But he could not pen the letter himself, because his handwriting would be recognized by Olive.
Rivière solved the difficulty in his usual decisive fashion. "Miss Verney," he said, "I wonder if you would do me a very big favour without asking for my reasons in detail? It's a most unusual request I'm going to make."
Elaine remembered her resolve to thaw this man of ice, and bring him to her feet, and then dismiss him. She had thawed him already. To do him some special favour would be a most excellent means of attaining the second end. She answered:
"Anything in reason I'll do gladly."
"You know that I want to avoid Monte Carlo. I don't even want my sister-in-law to know that I'm at Nîmes."