A bell rang and the glum, ebony maid passed through the room, closing both doors behind her.
Mary, alarmed at this nocturnal interruption, started a little, but neither of her companions seemed to regard the incident as unusual.
"You look much better," Mrs. Légère asseverated. "Finish that glass, dearie, and you'll be all to the good again."
"Do you think I'd better take so much?"
Both Max and Mrs. Légère laughed unaffectedly.
"Vhy, there ain't enough here to hurt a baby," declared the former.
Mary accepted the assurance. She did not like the taste of the champagne, but she knew now that she had been very tired, and the wine sent fresh life and energy through her sleepy limbs. She emptied the glass and felt, joyfully, all her fears and regrets slipping for her. Doubt and difficulty were resolved into a shimmering mist, were overcome, were forgotten.
The black maid thrust her head in at the hall-doorway.
Mrs. Légère rose.
"Excuse me," she said, leaving the room. "I'll be right back."