“Oh yes. If they come too early they can go into my room. It is in a terrible state—a regular pigsty—but never mind. They won’t come so early—not Gunnar, and I don’t mind him if he does, and not Ahlin either for that matter. He has already been to see me this morning; I was in bed, and he sat and talked. I sent him out on to the balcony while I dressed, and then we went out and had a good meal at Tre Re. We have been together the whole afternoon.”
“We saw Gram at Nazionale. Isn’t he awful? Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“I don’t think he is bad at all. He is awkward, poor boy, exactly as I was at first. He is one of those people who would like to enjoy themselves, but don’t know how to.”
“I came from Florence this morning,” said Francesca, imitating him, and laughed. “Ugh! If he had come by aeroplane at least.”
“You were exceedingly rude to him, my dear. It won’t do. I should have liked to ask him here tonight, but I dared not because of you. I could not take the risk of your being discourteous to him when he was our guest.”
“No fear of that. You know that quite well.” Francesca was hurt.
“Do you remember that time when Douglas came home with me to tea?”
“Yes, after that model business, but that was quite a different matter.”
“Wasn’t it? When he had proposed to me and I had very nearly accepted him.”
“Anyway, I had not quite said no, and the day before I had been with him to Versailles. He kissed me there several times and lay with his head in my lap, and when I told him I didn’t care for him he didn’t believe me.”
“It is not right, Cesca.” Jenny caught her eye in the mirror. “You are the dearest little girl in the world when you use your brains, but sometimes it seems as if you had no idea you are dealing with living beings, with people who have feelings that you must respect. You _would_ respect them if you were not so thoughtless, for I know you only want to be good and kind.”
“_Per Bacco._ Don’t be too sure of that. But I must show you some roses. Ahlin bought me quite a load this afternoon at a Spanish stairs.” Cesca smiled defiantly.
“You ought to stop that kind of thing, I think—if only because you know he cannot afford it.”
“I don’t care. If he is in love with me, I suppose he likes it.”