“Of course! And if you come at once we’ll have nearly an hour together before anybody arrives.”
She had that sweet, unguarded way with her at moments, and it always sent a faint shock of surprise and delight through him.
Her smiling maid admitted him and took his hat, coat and stick as though accustomed to these particular articles.
Palla was alone in the living-room when he was announced, and as soon as the maid disappeared she gave him both hands in swift welcome––an impulsive, unconsidered greeting entirely new to them both.
“You didn’t mind my tormenting you. Did you, Jim? I was so happy that you did call me up, after all. Because you know you did tell me yesterday that you were going to the opera to-night. But all the same, when the ’phone rang, somehow I knew it was you––I knew it––somehow–––”
She loosened one hand from his and swung him with the other toward the piano: “Do you like my flower garden? Isn’t the room attractive?”
“Charming,” he said. “And you are distractingly pretty to-night!”
“In this dull, black gown? But, merci, anyway! See how effective your roses are!––the ones you sent yesterday and the day before! They’re all opening. And I went out and bought a lot more, and all that fluffy green camouflage–––”
She withdrew her other hand from his without embarrassment 93 and went over to rearrange a sheaf of deep red carnations, spreading the clustered stems to wider circumference.