"We are drifting from the point," I said. "You did me the honor to
request an interview."
"Not exactly, my dear Armand. I sought admittance to my husband."
"By 'husband' you mean----?" I asked.
She smiled tolerantly. "By all means, keep up the play," she said;
"but we shall save time and energy by assuming that, whenever I speak
of my husband, I mean you."
"I take it, we may also assume that you did not seek such admission to
me for the sole pleasure of looking at me?" I said.
"Quite right, Armand; though there was a time--and not so long
ago--when we both were more than glad to look at each other.--And,
maybe, I have not changed." And she leaned forward and smiled with the
frankness of a sweet-faced child.