“She’s one of those Russian or Caucasian princesses. You know they don’t rank very high. She told me herself. She’s great fun—full of life and wit and intelligence and wide experience. She knows a lot about everything and everybody; she’s been everywhere, travelled all over the globe.”
“I don’t think,” repeated Rue, “that she would care for me at all.”
“Yes, she would. She’s young and warm-hearted and human. Besides, she is interested in art—knows a lot about it—even paints very well herself.”
“She must be wonderful.”
“No—she’s just a regular woman. It was because she was interested in art that she came to the League, and I was introduced to her. That is how I came to know her. She comes sometimes to my studio.”
“Yes, but you are already an artist, and an interesting man––”
“Oh, Rue, I’m just beginning. She’s kind, that’s all—an energetic, intelligent woman, full of interest in life. I know she’ll give you some splendid advice—tell you how to get settled in Paris—Lord! You don’t even know French, do you?” 130
“No.”
“Not a word?”
“No.... I don’t know anything, Mr. Neeland.”