“I am writing to Ian Black to-day,” he went on, “to make arrangements for next Thursday. So you will please cross next Tuesday, a week from to-day, for she must be well rested.”
Dr. David made a sudden gesture with his hand.
“It is a small nuisance,” he said, “that Lady Tarlyon must have it done in London, for the jolting in trains and on the boat will do her no good, you understand. Particularly as everything is so crowded now. Even an aeroplane would be better, if she had ever been up in one.”
“Oh, but she has—several times, I think!” Ivor cried; and smiled to remember the press photographs of Virginia Tracy “going up, gone up, come down and out” in 1913. “And I should think we could easily manage an aeroplane for next week.” The idea took hold of him. “Oh, yes, why not?”
“In that case you had better ‘manage’ it with your friends in England,” said Dr. David, “for the service here is not yet organised, and they might make difficulties. The Embassy might help, of course....”
“We won’t ask them,” Ivor said quickly. “We can manage one from England, I’m sure. Lady Tarlyon has aerial connections.” He laughed gaily. “Oh, splendid, doctor! She will be awfully pleased about that.”
They were now on the dingy pavement of the Place du Tertre, and Dr. David had his hand on the door of his limousine; but with the other he suddenly touched Ivor’s shoulder, a charmingly intimate gesture.
“Let me know,” he said, “what you have arranged. I shall be pleased to hear that Lady Tarlyon is going to have a little pleasure before the pain. For only thus is life bearable—whether the pleasure comes before or after the pain. But it generally comes before, I understand....” Charming old man, who contrived such courtesy out of commonplace!
3
Merriment and gravity were but the width of an eyelash apart in Virginia: which was well proved that same night, after dinner, as she lay in bed and smoked a cigarette. It was understood that Virginia smoked but four cigarettes a day now—which, of course, it was remarked by Ivor, always made the fifth so much more enjoyable. He was sitting now in an arm-chair near her, and hanging from his hand over the arm was the book of Shaw plays, from which he had been reading to her.