“You would be, you modest child. It’s splendid!——” He kept continually forcing out of his mind the fact of Smull’s part in the matter. “It’s an astonishing tribute to your talent and character, Eris. Who is your director?”
“Mr. Creevy.”
“Oh, Ratford Creevy?”
“Yes. Emil Shunk is our camera-man. Mr. Creevy brings his staff with him.”
Annan had his opinion of Mr. Creevy, but kept it.
“Well,” he repeated, “that’s splendid, Eris. I’m astonished,—you wanted me to be, didn’t you?——”
She laughed.
“—I’m astounded. And I’m just as happy as you are—you nice, fine girl!—you clever, clever kiddie!——”
They were laughing without reserve, her slim hands still clasped in his; and both turned without embarrassment when Rosalind came leisurely behind them.
“Albert has been chewing his moustache for half an hour,” she drawled. “Are you actually spooning, Eris?”