woman—and a man’s woman. Do you know I believe most women can sneak a look down their noses from underneath the handkerchief of hope they’ve tied over their eyes. They could take the whole muffler off—but they don’t do it, the dears.”
“I don’t believe you know what you’re talking about, and I’m sure I don’t. Sapphires reminded me of your eyes—and—isn’t it ‘Blue that kept the faith?’ I remember something about it.”
“Here,” said she, pulling off the ring, “you ought to wear it yourself. Faithful One, to keep me in constant mind.”
“Keep it on, keep it on. It holds you faster than that fair damsel tied to a tree in Millais’ picture—I believe it’s Millais.”
She sat shaking with laughter.
“What a comparison! Who’ll be the brave knight to rescue me—discreetly—from behind?”
“Ah,” he answered, “it doesn’t matter. You don’t want rescuing, do you?”
“Not yet,” she replied, teasing him.
They continued to talk half nonsense, making themselves eloquent by quick looks and gestures, and communion of warm closeness. The ironical tones went out of Lottie’s voice, and they made love.
Marie drew me away into the dining room, to leave them alone.
Marie is a charming little maid, whose appearance is neatnees, whose face is confident little goodness. Her hair is dark, and lies low upon her neck in wavy coils. She does not affect the fashion in coiffure, and generally is a little behind the fashion in dress.
