“Red or white, sweet or dry, what do you like, Gram?” said Heggen, turning to him.
“Mr. Gram must have half a litre of my claret,” said Jenny Winge. “It is one of the best things you can have in Rome, and that is no small praise, you know.”
The sculptor pushed his cigarette-case over to the ladies. Miss Jahrman took one and lighted it.
“No, Cesca—don’t!” begged Miss Winge.
“Yes,” said Miss Jahrman. “I shan’t be any better if I don’t smoke, and I am cross tonight.”
“Why are you cross?” asked Ahlin.
“Because I did not get those corals.”
“Were you going to wear them tonight?” asked Heggen.
“No, but I had made up my mind to have them.”
“I see,” said Heggen, laughing, “and tomorrow you will decide to have the malachite necklace.”