"Oh my, it's six, I ought to go," she said hesitantly but not making a move. It was hard to tell whether Simone wanted her to stay.
Simone rose, controlling with an effort the seething jealousy. What brazenness to flaunt mock-innocent confirmation of her suspicions. The girl was more complex than appeared but not clever in concealing the feeling in her voice. It would be a happiness to mar that deceitful face, to destroy its confident composure.
"I am sorry you must leave, I had thought perhaps you would remain to dinner," she said uninvitingly.
"Well, if I'm not taking too much of your time, I'd love to," Lucy accepted enthusiastically. She stretched her arms, wiggling her fingers, and confessed, "I'm glad you asked me because I feel we could be very good friends. I've really looked forward to this afternoon."
"And I," Simone said coolly. She ordered by telephone, without consulting her, Lucy noted. Broiled chicken, asparagus, and then she turned, saying with a faint smile, "For dessert, crepes suzette?"
"That'll be grand," Lucy accepted, though she preferred ice cream.
Waiting, Simone paced the room, switched on the overhead chandelier, opening, then closing, a window, drawing the shades, pouring her another drink which Lucy declined with, "Not if we are having champagne. I'll be drunk, I feel giddy already."
"You are too cautious." Simone sounded irritated.
"Well then, just a little sip," Lucy said to be agreeable.
"Good!"
What a funny smile, noted Lucy, like when a man is trying to get you drunk. "I love your black pajamas. When I'm home I walk around in my underwear," she chatted.
"Ah! It is so clever of you to wear grey. Most blondes believe it chic to wear black, but black is only for those of nondescript color, like myself."
"I certainly wouldn't call you nondescript," Lucy said admiringly, giving up the black ensemble.
Yes, the girl was a méchante. It would be a satisfaction to seduce her from Paul. Revenge could not heal wounds but it was a solace. "How then do you see me, my dear?"
Saved by the bell, Lucy thought as the waiter rolled in the table, and wondered whether she already was drunk because Simone reminded her of the way Miss Shaver looked at her and then kissed her when they were alone after school in Denver. Maybe it was because Simone made her feel younger than ever before in her life. So much so that even to herself she sounded childish and unable to
