I promised to convey to Paragot the tabu of the Black Boar, and then I asked her which she preferred, England or France. She shivered, and a gleam of frost returned to her eyes.
"I never want to see France again. I was so unhappy there. I am trying to persuade Mr. de Nérac to live in London. He can find as much scope for his art there as in Paris, can't he?"
"Surely," said I.
"And you'll come too," she said with the flash of gaiety that was one of her charms. "You'll have a beautiful studio near by and we'll all be happy together."
She jumped off the painting stool and having bidden me light the gas, resumed her task of embroidering the stole, by the fireside.
"It's pretty, isn't it?" she asked, holding it up for my inspection.
I agreed. She had considerable talent for art needlework.
"Gaston doesn't appreciate it," she remarked, laughing. "He disapproves of clergymen."
"They have scarcely been in his line," I answered apologetically.
"They will have to be. Oh, you'll see. I'll make him a model Englishman before very long."