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Authors: Susan Barrie
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little when the time comes for me to hand over the residue! ”
“ Then Martine is prepared for you to hand over the residue? ”
“ Oh, yes. Marriage is Martine ’ s bete noire! She thinks I ’ d be happier waiting on tables than running a home for a husband! ”
“ Too bad, ” Leon Daudet said dryly. “ It seems that you ’ re going to be influenced against marriage, and apparently you don ’ t need much influencing! ”
They arrived at the coffee and liqueur stage—and he insisted that she drink a liqueur—and they went on talking about nothing that was of vital importance to either of them, until suddenly Valentine remembered why he had asked her to lunch.
“ You said that you wanted to talk to me. Was it important? ” she asked. “ I thought it might have something to do with Monsieur Dubonnet. Something that he has asked you to say to me. ”
He looked surprised.
“ Did I say I had something important to say to you? Well, whatever it was, I have forgotten it! ”
“ But it was when you picked me up in the Champs-Elysees! When you had Madame Faubourg with you and you drove me back to the apartment ... It was the reason why you asked me to lunch! ”
He looked at her with a decided tinge of humor in his eyes and then smiled in a way she thought gentle and unexpectedly charming.
“ Surely I wouldn ’ t have asked you to lunch for a reason other than that I wanted you to lunch with me? You had been bestowing your favors on some unknown young man, and I thought he was being treated to an unfair advantage ... ” Then he grew more serious. “ There was something I wanted to say to you. but I will not s ay it here. I will drive you home by a roundabout route and say it on the way. ”
The roundabout route was very pleasant in the sunshine, although the day was not quite so spring like . There was a keen wind, and in the Bois de Boulogne new spring hats were being freakishly whisked from heads with new spring hairstyles, and nursemaids with charges had their white aprons whipped up over their heads, so that the charges shrieked with delight.
Dr. Daudet brough t his car to a standstill under a tree, in a spot where it was not quite so well populated, and offered Valentine a cigarette. She saw his white teeth gleam attractively as he sat back and smiled at her.
“ I feel that if you are tempted to bite my head off for interference it will be better here in the open. ” he said.
“ Interference? ” she asked.
“ First and foremost, I do not think you should continue to live all alone with Martine. She may be filling your head with ideas about colorful little restaurants in the south, where you will look very attractive in one of those flowered smocks, waiting on tourists at gaily painted tables, but I do not think that would meet with Miss Constantia ’ s approval at all! She wished a very different life for you, or she would not have provided you with the wherewithal, and if only to show your gratitude you must, for the time being, do what she would wish. And she would not wish you to live alone! ”
“ But ... but I have Martine. ”
He waved expressive hands.
“ Forget Martine. She is to look after you and I hope she will do it well. But have you no particular friend—and I am not, of course, referring to the masculine friend with whom you lunch so frequently—who could join you and keep you company for a while? Preferably someone older than yourself, who could advise you on occasion and give you the support that I think you need! ”
She stared at him in blank surprise.
“ But I do not need the advice of other people. I can look after myself. I ’ ve had to look after myself for years ...”
“ That is too true, ” he said. “ That is apparently, all too true! ” His dark eyes looked straight at her. “ Miss Brooke, I have given you no cause so far to think that I am very much concerned with your affairs, but I am. And I would like a few omissions to be rectified. You
“ Then Martine is prepared for you to hand over the residue? ”
“ Oh, yes. Marriage is Martine ’ s bete noire! She thinks I ’ d be happier waiting on tables than running a home for a husband! ”
“ Too bad, ” Leon Daudet said dryly. “ It seems that you ’ re going to be influenced against marriage, and apparently you don ’ t need much influencing! ”
They arrived at the coffee and liqueur stage—and he insisted that she drink a liqueur—and they went on talking about nothing that was of vital importance to either of them, until suddenly Valentine remembered why he had asked her to lunch.
“ You said that you wanted to talk to me. Was it important? ” she asked. “ I thought it might have something to do with Monsieur Dubonnet. Something that he has asked you to say to me. ”
He looked surprised.
“ Did I say I had something important to say to you? Well, whatever it was, I have forgotten it! ”
“ But it was when you picked me up in the Champs-Elysees! When you had Madame Faubourg with you and you drove me back to the apartment ... It was the reason why you asked me to lunch! ”
He looked at her with a decided tinge of humor in his eyes and then smiled in a way she thought gentle and unexpectedly charming.
“ Surely I wouldn ’ t have asked you to lunch for a reason other than that I wanted you to lunch with me? You had been bestowing your favors on some unknown young man, and I thought he was being treated to an unfair advantage ... ” Then he grew more serious. “ There was something I wanted to say to you. but I will not s ay it here. I will drive you home by a roundabout route and say it on the way. ”
The roundabout route was very pleasant in the sunshine, although the day was not quite so spring like . There was a keen wind, and in the Bois de Boulogne new spring hats were being freakishly whisked from heads with new spring hairstyles, and nursemaids with charges had their white aprons whipped up over their heads, so that the charges shrieked with delight.
Dr. Daudet brough t his car to a standstill under a tree, in a spot where it was not quite so well populated, and offered Valentine a cigarette. She saw his white teeth gleam attractively as he sat back and smiled at her.
“ I feel that if you are tempted to bite my head off for interference it will be better here in the open. ” he said.
“ Interference? ” she asked.
“ First and foremost, I do not think you should continue to live all alone with Martine. She may be filling your head with ideas about colorful little restaurants in the south, where you will look very attractive in one of those flowered smocks, waiting on tourists at gaily painted tables, but I do not think that would meet with Miss Constantia ’ s approval at all! She wished a very different life for you, or she would not have provided you with the wherewithal, and if only to show your gratitude you must, for the time being, do what she would wish. And she would not wish you to live alone! ”
“ But ... but I have Martine. ”
He waved expressive hands.
“ Forget Martine. She is to look after you and I hope she will do it well. But have you no particular friend—and I am not, of course, referring to the masculine friend with whom you lunch so frequently—who could join you and keep you company for a while? Preferably someone older than yourself, who could advise you on occasion and give you the support that I think you need! ”
She stared at him in blank surprise.
“ But I do not need the advice of other people. I can look after myself. I ’ ve had to look after myself for years ...”
“ That is too true, ” he said. “ That is apparently, all too true! ” His dark eyes looked straight at her. “ Miss Brooke, I have given you no cause so far to think that I am very much concerned with your affairs, but I am. And I would like a few omissions to be rectified. You
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