The lady drew it away and approached it to her nose by turns, playfully.
"She is a funny one," she said. "Is your tea right, dearie?"
"Perfect," said Julian. "Is my toast right?"
"Right as ninepence, and righter."
She munched.
"I like you," she said. "You're a gentleman."
She spoke naturally, without coquetry. It was a fine experience for her
to be treated with that thing some women never know--respect. She warmed
under it and glistened.
"We must be friends," Julian said.
"Pals. Yes. Have some more sugar?"
She jumped two lumps into his cup, and laughed quite gaily when the
tea spouted over into the saucer. And they chatted on, and fed Jessie
into joy and peace. Gradually Julian drew the conversation round to the
photographs. The lady was expansive. She gave short histories of some
of the men, summing them up with considerable shrewdness, kodaking their
characters with both humour and sarcasm. Julian and she progressed
along the mantelpiece together. Presently they arrived at the old lady
with the Bible.
"And this?" Julian said.
The lady's fund of spirits was suddenly exhausted.
"Oh, that," she said, and a sort of strange, suppressed blush struggled
up under the rouge on her face.
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