“I’ll buy a Westminster going back,” he observed. “Bisque! Bring a bottle of the Lanson, Raoul.”
He addressed the waiter in French.
“Oui, m’sieu.”
“Well iced!”
“Certainement, Monsieur Garstin.”
“Better tempered now, Beryl?”
“You always make out that I have the temper of a fiend. I hate being startled. That’s all.”
“You’re awfully nervy these days.”
“I think you are the cruellest man I know. If it weren’t for your painting no one would have anything to do with you.”
“I shouldn’t care.”