The Levantine wept. Even Suez Canal folk are not proof against all human sympathy. Mr. Greyne blew his nose beside the fire, and Mrs. Greyne said again:
“I repeat that this is very sad.”
“Madame, if I do not go to mamma tomorrow I shall not see her more.”
Mrs. Greyne looked very grave.
“Oh!” she remarked. She thought profoundly for a moment, and then added: “Indeed!”
“It is true, madame.”
Suddenly Mademoiselle Verbena flung herself down on the Persian carpet at Mrs. Greyne’s large but well-proportioned feet, and, bathing them with her tears, cried in a heartrending manner:
“Madame will let me go! madame will permit me to fly to poor mamma—to close her dying eyes—to kiss once again——”
Mr. Greyne was visibly affected, and even Mrs. Greyne seemed somewhat put about, for she moved her feet rather hastily out of reach of the dependant’s emotion, and made her scramble up.
“Where is your poor mother?”