“You want to be shocked, Miss Gross?”
Hill intervened. “But you can’t, Rennard. You don’t know my little Madeline.”
The little Madeline simpered and tapped her escort’s mouth with the back of her gloved hand.
“How do you know, Christian? Just because you couldn’t.” Bending her body back, she threw her head back also. She gazed at Tom through the lashes of her half-shut eyes.
Durthal came up.
“Your place is there, old man. Between Lunn and me.”
“Good evening, Flora. Say, you have room for Markand? I made him promise he’d be here.”
A thick-set woman, with face incredibly composed and large bare arms crossed over the gray width of her dress, nodded to Tom and to the others.
“Good evening, Flora.” “Hello, Flora,” the greetings came. Flora did not budge from her place in the kitchen door. Hill dragged Miss Gross through the scatter of chairs.
“Oh, Signora Sanni,” he said, “I want to introduce my friend.”