They are tending to congregate, our poor French friends. ” 243 She felt a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and pride well up in her cheeks, flushing them. ‘But if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove. ’ ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but I think as how you ought to go back to London,’ Jack ventured. . He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t.
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