"His latest disguise is that of a parrot,
but he may change it for something else at any moment."
Then Stephen saw, suspended among the crystal chandeliers and antique
lamps, a brass cage, shaped like a domed palace. In this cage, in a
coral ring, sat a grey parrot who regarded the two young men with
jewel-eyes that seemed to know all good and evil.
"He yells if any stranger comes into the shop when his mistress is out,"
Nevill explained. "I am an humble friend of His Majesty's, so he says
nothing. I gave him to Mademoiselle Jeanne."
Perhaps their voices had been heard. At all events, there was a light
tapping of heels on unseen stairs, and from behind a red-curtained
doorway appeared a tall young woman, dressed in black.
She was robust as well as tall, and Stephen thought she looked rather
like a handsome Spanish boy; yet she was feminine enough in her
outlines. It was the frank and daring expression of her face and great
black eyes which gave the look of boyishness. She had thick, straight
eyebrows, a large mouth that was beautiful when she smiled, to show
perfect teeth between the red lips that had a faint, shadowy line of
down above them.
"Ah, Monsieur Nevill Caird!" she exclaimed, in English, with a full
voice, and a French accent that was pretty, though not Parisian. She
smiled at Stephen, too, without waiting to be introduced. "Monsieur
Caird is always kind in bringing his friends to me, and I am always glad
to see them.
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