an idle hour, and to exchange those pleasant freedoms and trifles which make up the sum of recreation.
The Admiral, a white-moustached, charming old man, who had hobnobbed with princes, and was none the worse for it, began to compliment Annette on her gown, after having previously called her "my dear."
"Really," he said, "that gown is a most stunning creation."
Thorndyke chimed in here:
"Yes," he said. "It makes Mrs. Crane look like a white narcissus blooming in a bed of mignonette."
No woman is ever disconcerted by compliments, and Annette was charmed at the praises lavished on her—and particularly in Crane's presence.
"I should say," remarked Sir Mark le Poer, "with my feeble powers of comparison, that Mrs. Crane's gown reminds me of some of your delicious American dishes, not all sauces and flavourings like our European things, but fresh and new and exquisite. I know I have a grovelling nature, but, 'pon my soul, is there anything more charming than a dish of delicate soft crabs on a bed of parsley"
