The Family
They make your colour prettier than ever. It’s
only lately you’ve begun to wear them. Louie’s
taste, I suppose?”
“Of course. He selects all my things for me,” said Rosamond proudly.
“Well, he does a good job. He knows what’s right for you.” St. Peter continued to look her up and down with satisfaction. “And Kathleen is getting new furs. You were advising her?”
“She didn’t mention it to me,” Rosamond replied in a guarded voice.
“No? And what do you call this, what beast?”
he asked ingenuously, again stroking the fur with his bare hand.
“It’s taupe.”
“Oh, moleskin!” He drew back a little. “Couldn’t be better for your complexion. And is it warm?”
“Very warm—and so light.”
“I see, I see!” He took Rosamond’s arm and escorted her to her car. “Give Louie my compliments on his choice.” The motor glided away—
he wished he could escape as quickly and noiselessly, for he was a coward. But he had a feeling that Kathleen was watching him from behind the sash curtains. He went up to the door and made a long and thorough use of the foot-scraper before he tapped on the glass. Kathleen let him in. She was very pale; even her lips, which were always pink,
—83—
