"I will that, sorr," said the big Irishman, tipping his hat to Athalie.
"But, Clive," she persisted, bewildered, still clinging to his arm, "I don't understand why—"
"Little goose, hush!" he replied, subduing the excitement in his voice and fitting the key into the door.
"One moment, Athalie," he added, "until I light up. Now!"
She entered the lighted hallway, walking on a soft green carpet, and turned, obeying the guiding pressure of his arm, into a big square room which sprang into brilliant illumination as he found the switch.
Green and gold were the hangings and prevailing colours; there were rugs, wide, comfortable chairs and lounges, bookcases, a picture or two in deep glowing colours, a baby-grand piano, and an open fire loaded for business.
"Is it done in good taste, Athalie?" he asked.
"It is charming. Is it yours, Clive?"
He laughed, slipped his arm under hers and led her along the hallway, opening door after door; and first she was invited to observe a very modern and glistening bathroom, then a bedroom all done in grey and rose with dainty white furniture and a white-bear rug beside the bed.