"You can clear away," Rachel whispered, in the frigid tones of one
accustomed to command cohorts of servants in the luxury of historic
castles.
"Yes, ma'am," Mrs. Tams whispered back nervously, proud as a
major-domo, though with less than a major-domo's aplomb.
No pride, however, could have outclassed Rachel's. She had had a full
day, and the evening was the crown of the day, because in the evening
she was entertaining privately for the first time. She was the one
lady of the party; for these two men she represented woman, and they
were her men. They depended on her for their physical well-being, and
not in vain. She was the hostess; hers to command; hers the complex
responsibility of the house. She had begun supper with painful
timidity, but the timidity had now nearly vanished in the flush
of social success. Critical as only a young wife can be, she was
excellently well satisfied with Louis' performance in the role of
host. She grew more than ever sure that there was only one Louis. See
him manipulate a cigarette--it was the perfection of worldliness and
agreeable, sensuous grace! See him hold a match to Mr. Batchgrew's
cigarette!
Now Mr. Batchgrew smoked a cigarette clumsily.
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