'Is that all you've got to say to me?' she asked. 'Won't you shake hands?'
Farwell put out his hand and held hers for a second. He was smiling now, with just a touch of wistfulness in his eyes.
'I'm very glad to see you,' he said at length.
'So am I,' said Victoria. 'I hope you don't mind my coming here, but I only thought of it this morning.'
'Mind,' snapped Farwell. 'People who understand everything never mind anything.'
Victoria smiled again. The bumptious aphorism was a sign that Farwell was still himself. For a minute or so they looked at one another. Victoria wondered at this man; so powerful intellectually and physically; and yet content to live in his ideals on a pittance, to do dull work, to be a subordinate. Truly a caged lion. Farwell, on the other hand, was looking in vain for some physical ravishes to justify Victoria's profession, for some gross development at least. He looked in vain. Instead of the pale dark girl with large grey eyes whom he had known, he now saw a healthy and beautiful woman with a clear white skin, thick hair, red lips.
'Well,' he said with a laugh, 'can I invite you to lunch with me?'
'You may,' she said. 'I'll have a small coffee and . . . a sunny side up.'
Farwell laughed and signed to Nelly. After a minute he attracted her attention and gave the order without Nelly taking any interest in Farwell's guest. It might be rather extraordinary, but her supervisory duties were all-absorbent. When she returned, however, she stole a curious look at Victoria while placing before her the poached egg on toast. She looked at her again, and her eyes dilated.
'Law,' she said. 'Vic!'