The sorrow in the dark eyes changed to jealous anger.
“Has he gone with that woman?” Molly asked.
“Oui, madame,” said Florine, with a profound courtesy; then, smiling, “Ah, madame, what a glorious beauty is that queenly Miss Barry! No wonder—” She pauses.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Molly looked keenly at the hesitating maid.
“‘It is no wonder’—well, go on,” she said, sharply.
“I beg madame’s pardon, I meant no harm, but I was about to say it was no wonder that Monsieur Cecil admires Miss Barry so much,” answered Florine, deprecatingly.
Molly looked straight into the shifting treacherous black eyes.
“Does my husband admire her?” she asked, in a strange voice.
“La, madame, how should I know? It was but a slip of the tongue. I only judged by appearances,” Florine said, tossing her smart head with its cap and ribbons.