.."
_Vivie_: "Very well. We'll go to Villa Beau-sejour. But don't give
me too many of your reminiscences or I may leave you after all and
go back to England. Whilst I'm with you, you must give up rouge and
patchouli and the kind of conversation that goes with them. I'm out
here trying to do my duty and duty is always unpleasant. I don't
want to be a kill-joy, but don't give me more of that side of your
character than you can help. It--it makes me sick, mother..."
[Mrs. Warren--or Madame Varennes--whimpers a little, but soon cheers
up, rings the bell for her maid preparatory to dressing and being
the business woman over her preparations for departure. She notes
the address of Vivie's hotel and promises to call for her there in
the _auto_ at three o'clock. Vivie leaves her, descends the richly
carpeted stairs--the lift is worked by an odiously pretty, little,
plump soubrette dressed as a page boy--and goes out into the street.
Several lounging men stare hard at her, but decide she is too
English, too plainly dressed, and a little too old to neddle with.
This last consideration is apparent to Vivie's intelligence and she
muses on it with a wistful little smile, half humour, half regret.
She will at her leisure write a whole description of the scene to
Michael.]
Those who come after us will never realize how delightful was
foreign travel before the War, before that War which installed
damnable Dora in power in all the countries of Europe, especially
France, Belgium, Switzerland, Italy, and Holland.
Pages:
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221