"I can believe it when I see you. Je vous ai bien observée," the actress continued, in her sweet, conciliatory tone.
Miriam looked from one of her interlocutors to the other, as if there was a joy to her in this report of Sherringham's remarks, accompanied however, and partly mitigated, by a quicker vision of what might have passed between a secretary of embassy and a creature so exquisite as Mademoiselle Voisin. "Ah, you're wonderful people a most interesting impression!" she sighed.
"I was looking for you; he had prepared me. We are such old friends!" said the actress, in a tone courteously exempt from intention: upon which Sherringham again took her hand and raised it to his lips, with a tenderness which her whole appearance seemed to bespeak for her, a sort of practical consideration and carefulness of touch, as if she were an object precious and frail, an instrument for producing rare sounds, to be handled, like a legendary violin, with a recognition of its value.
"Your dressing-room is so pretty—show her your dressingroom," said Sherringham.
"Willingly, if she'll come up. Vous savez, c'est une montée."
"It's a shame to inflict it on you," Miriam objected.
"Comment donc? If it will interest you in the least!" They exchanged civilities, almost caresses, trying which could have the nicest manner to the other. It was the actress's manner that struck Miriam most; it denoted such a training, so much taste, expressed such a ripe conception of urbanity.
"No wonder she acts well when she has that tact—feels, perceives, is so remarkable, mon Dieu, mon Dieu!" Miriam
