"How many months is it?..."
"Three years ... Three and a half!"
"Bah! there is still hope!"
To tease her for this, he drew back, grinning with elation.
"Oh, you are having a beautiful time of it!" she said, watching him in the mirror. "It amuses you very much! ... But just you wait!" She raised her hand, counting the fingers. "Three, four, five—five years! That is the worst bridge of all! ... Even my old Jacquot—poor soul—stood me for five years! ... Just wait!" Then, struck by a sudden reflection, she proceeded to revenge herself. "If you are happy, I was right, after all! You remember ... first time I saw Chartèrs ... I said 'it is not an actress, it is a woman!' ..." She emphasized the point with a satisfied shrug. "I was right, and there you are!"
"Well, Emma, don't let's fight," he said, hugely amused. "I'm glad to see you again!"
"I, too," she said, tapping his arm, and turning her darkened face towards him for better inspection. "Better so, hein? ... So you are rich now, Teddy ... An uncle was good enough to die?"
"Two!..."
"Ah! ... what a pity! ... And now you are spoiled!" She began to soften the shadows of the eyes. "Tell me one thing..."
"Yes?..."