In a moment she returned, dropped him a bit of curtsy, and informed him
that her mistress would receive him.
He rewarded her with another caress, which she accepted with assumed
shyness--and a wicked little pinch.
"I'll pay you later for the pinch!" he tossed back, softly.
She answered with an affected shrug and a wink.
"Elise _is_ remarkably pretty!" Madeline Spencer remarked when he
entered the boudoir. She was sitting up in bed, eating her rolls and
coffee--a bewildering negligee of cerise and cream heightening the
effect of her dead-white colouring and raven-black hair.
Marston drew in his breath sharply, then sighed.
"And _you_ are ravishingly beautiful, my lady," he replied.
"You like this robe?" she asked.
"I--like you; what you may wear is incidental. It merely increases the
effect of your wonderful personality."
"My good Marston!" she smiled. "What a faithful friend you are; always
seeing my few good points and being blind to my many bad."
"And being always," he added, bowing low, "your most humble and loving
servant."
"I know it--and I am very, very grateful." She put aside the tray and
languidly stretched her lithe length under the sheet. "What have you to
report, Marston?" she asked.
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