"I came from Florence this morning," said Francesca, imitating him, and laughed. "Ugh! If he had come by aeroplane at least."
"You were exceedingly rude to him, my dear. It won't do. I should have liked to ask him here tonight, but I dared not because of you. I could not take the risk of your being discourteous to him when he was our guest."
"No fear of that. You know that quite well." Francesca was hurt.
"Do you remember that time when Douglas came home with me to tea?"
"Yes, after that model business, but that was quite a different matter."
"Nonsense. It was no concern of yours."
"Wasn't it? When he had proposed to me and I had very nearly accepted him."
"How could he know?" said Jenny.
"Anyway, I had not quite said no, and the day before I had been with him to Versailles. He kissed me there several times and lay with his head in my lap, and when I told him I didn't care for him he didn't believe me."
"It is not right, Cesca." Jenny caught her eye in the mirror. "You are the dearest little girl in the world when you use your brains, but sometimes it seems as if you had no idea you are dealing with living beings, with people who have feelings that you must respect. You would respect them if you were not so thoughtless, for I know you only want to be good and kind."
"Per Bacco. Don't be too sure of that. But I must show you some roses. Ahlin bought me quite a load this afternoon at a Spanish stairs." Cesca smiled defiantly.
"You ought to stop that kind of thing, I think—if only because you know he cannot afford it."
"I don't care. If he is in love with me, I suppose he likes it."
