He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. “You will have some tea?” she asked. ” She looked at him with uplifted eyebrows—a look of whimsical incredulity. ” “That is quite untrue,” she declared cheerfully. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword.
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