he was very handsome. And Campaspe's instinct told her at once that this boy was the opposite of Paul in everything.
Come over here and sit down, young man, she ordered, although in a kindly enough tone. Ki will give you a cocktail. Harold said nothing this time about his previous temperate habits, but the size of the drink alarmed him. Ki was not penurious with alcohol.
After Harold had drunk half his cocktail, he even attempted a little sally.
You will pardon me for speaking of it, he said, but I am admiring your flowers. I never saw any one wear geraniums before. I didn't know they were worn. They seem to belong in boxes outside windows, or in pots, or in parks, but they are just right on you.
paspe always wears geraniums, said Paul, probably because Cupid doesn't like them.
Cupid? queried Harold, more comfortable, a trifle bolder.
Mr. Lorillard. Madame's husband. We always call him that. Cupid and my Campaspe played for kisses; Cupid paid, you know. He pays all right, but he doesn't get the kisses. . . . Hello, Bunny.
Paul rose to greet the newcomer, Mr. Titus Hugg, a very short man, shorter even than Ki, inclined towards rotundity, but young and rosy and extremely affable.
