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Madame Frabelle's perfectly right, Edith, you know. Well, what about Shepperton? 'Shepperton? Oh, charming! Dear little town. But it isn't exactly what I call the river, if you know what I mean. I mean to say 'Well, could you suggest a place? said Bruce. 'Oh, I'm the worst person in the world for suggesting anything, said Madame Frabelle. 'And I know so little of the river.
How Madame Frabelle loves Bruce! he went on, watching her. 'Really, Landi, I assure you you're occasionally as mistaken as she is. And she thinks I'm in love with our host. 'That's because elle voit double. I don't. 'What makes you think.... 'I read between the lines, my dear between the lines on Madame Frabelle's face. 'She hasn't any.
She guessed Madame Frabelle thought her rooms too plain, too colourless. Instead of the dull greys and blues, and surfaces without design, she felt sure her friend would have preferred gorgeous patterns, and even a good deal of gilt. Probably at heart Madame Frabelle's ideal was the crimson plush and stamped leather and fancy ceilings of the lounge in a foreign hotel.
Suddenly in the most impassioned part, which he was singing in a composer's voice, that is, hardly any voice, but with perfect art, he caught Madame Frabelle's eye, and gave her a solemn wink. She burst out laughing. He then went on singing with sentiment and grace.
To her a death was a denouement; a marriage a happy ending. Had she known the exact circumstances in which Edith went to see the wounded hero, Madame Frabelle's dramatic remarks, the obvious observations which she would have showered on her friend, would have been quite unendurable.
He would have made it last longer, but was unable to bear his own suspense; so he said: 'Before I say any more, tell me: where is Madame Frabelle? 'Madame Frabelle's in her own room. She stays there a good deal, you know. I fancy she does it out of tactfulness. Edith spoke thoughtfully. 'What does she do there? Bruce asked with low-toned curiosity, as he stood up and looked in the glass.
Madame Frabelle was privately thinking that Edith was restless, that she had lost her repose, that her lips were redder than they used to be. Had she taken to using lip salve too? She was inclined to smile, with a twinkle in her eye, at Madame Frabelle's remarks, a shade too often. And what was Edith thinking of at this moment? She was thinking of Archie's remarks about Madame Frabelle.
'But will you be happy comfortable alone in America? He walked across the room and came back. 'Edith, I'm sorry to pain you, but I shall not be alone. Edith started, thinking of Madame Frabelle's letter ... from Liverpool! Evidently they were going away together.
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