* * * * *
Suddenly a light figure came fluttering round the corner of the road leading to the château and the town. Philip turned and went to meet her. And as he approached her he was shaken afresh by the excitement of her presence, in addition to his more sordid preoccupation. Her wild, provocative beauty seemed to light up the whole wintry scene; and the few passers-by, each and all, stopped to stare at her. Hester laughed aloud when she saw Meryon; and with her usual recklessness held up her umbrella for signal. It pleased her that two rapins in large black ties and steeple hats paid her an insolent attention as they passed her; and she stopped to pinch the cheek of a chubby child that had planted itself straight in her path.
"Am I late?" she said, as they met. "I only just caught the train. Oh! I am so hungry! Don't let's talk—let's déjeuner."
Philip laughed.
"Will you dare the hotel?"
And he pointed to the Pavillion Henri Quatre.
"Why not? Probably there won't be a soul."
"There are always Americans."
"Why not, again? Tant mieux! Oh, my hair!"
And she put up her two ungloved hands to try and reduce it to something like order. The loveliness of the young curving form, of the pretty hands, of the golden brown hair, struck full on Meryon's turbid sense.