She gave a moue and a flounce in reply, and swished out.
"Carries herself well, doesn't she?" observed Mr. Mardon, as
though Marie had been an exhibit at an agricultural show. "Ten
years ago she was very fresh and pretty, but of course it takes it
out of 'em, a place like this!"
"But still," said Peel-Swynnerton, "they must like it or they
wouldn't stay--that is, unless things are very different here from
what they are in England."
The conversation seemed to have stimulated him to examine the
woman question in all its bearings, with philosophic curiosity.
"Oh! They LIKE it," Mr. Mardon assured him, as one who knew.
"Besides, Mrs. Scales treats 'em very well. I know THAT. She's
told me. She's very particular"--he looked around to see if walls
had ears--"and, by Jove, you've got to be; but she treats 'em
well. You'd scarcely believe the wages they get, and pickings. Now
at the Hotel Moscow--know the Hotel Moscow?"
Happily Peel-Swynnerton did. He had been advised to avoid it
because it catered exclusively for English visitors, but in the
Pension Frensham he had accepted something even more exclusively
British than the Hotel Moscow. Mr. Mardon was quite relieved at
his affirmative.
Pages:
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754