Molly pointed at the package of books.
“Take them away and put them into the fire,” she said, furiously, her heart swelling with jealousy. “I will have nothing to do with the books or the sender!”
“Oui, madame,” said Florine, courtesying.
She took up the books and went out quickly.
Cecil was still lingering in the hall, perhaps awaiting some message from his wife after his overture of kindness. Florine went up to him with a hypocritically sorry face.
“Monsieur, I do not think Madame Laurens is herself quite this morning. She told me to put the books into the fire.”
Cecil stared in incredulous amazement.
“Nonsense, she could not have said that,” he exclaimed.
“Mais, oui, monsieur, I speak her very words. ‘Take them away and put them into the fire, I will have nothing to do with them or the sender,’ she said.”
“Really, Florine?”