Laurence turned round, a hairbrush in either hand, and gazed at her.
"He's presentable, really?... I shouldn't have expected it."
"He isn't very well dressed," said Mary quietly. "But you needn't be at all ashamed of him. He's—there's something about him—well, I can't describe it, but he has much better manners than Mr. Lavery."
"Oh, you always have a knife up your sleeve for poor old Horace," said Laurence, turning back again to the mirror and brushing vigorously. "I'll be down in ten minutes—but I'd rather see him alone first, you know. Do you suppose he's come back?"
"I'll see."
In the mirror Laurence's eyes dwelt on her tall figure and white face shadowy in the background. He said slowly with an undertone of pain:
"You look very beautiful tonight."