Her demeanour
could not have been more impeccable had she been trained in a
French convent. Just before we arrived, she had been laughing
immoderately because I had ordered her to spit out a mass of
horrible sweetmeat which she had found it impossible to
masticate, and she had challenged me to extract it with my
fingers. But now, compared with her, Saint Nitouche was a
Maenad. I was entertained by Judith's fruitless efforts to get
behind this wall of reserve. Carlotta said," Oh, ye-es" or
"No-o" to everything. It was not a momentous conversation. As
it was Carlotta in whom Judith was particularly interested, I
effaced myself. At last, after a lull in the spasmodic talk,
Carlotta said, very politely:
"Mrs. Mainwaring has a beautiful house."
"It's only a tiny flat. Would you like to look over it?" asked
Judith, eagerly, flashing me a glance that plainly said, "Now
that I shall have her to myself, you may trust me to get to the
bottom of her."
"I would like it very much," said Carlotta, rising.
I held the door open for them to pass out, and lit a cigarette.
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