"You'll treat her...?"
"As I would my own child," Miss Bestris said; she took out another
cigarette, lit it. "I think we'll call her--well--Poppy. Earthmen like
to feel at home, you know."
The clock went _tick-tick_.
"Well, uh," the man said. "Uh. Thank you."
* * * * *
In one of the rooms upstairs Mary sat before the dressing table with her
back to the mirror, while June and Adele occupied the two overstuffed
chairs. Night sounds drifted up from the yellow canal, and fresh flower
scents whispered on the warm air. The diaphanous glass curtains rustled
at the open window.
"They're too expensive," Mary said. "I'm sure Miss Bestris overcharges
us for them."
"Hush," said June, glancing around at the walls nervously. "Hush, Mary."
She smoothed at the delicate, plutolac lace fringe above her breasts.
"Imported material like this costs money. You can't get it for nothing,
and we have to have the best."
"I still think she charges too much."
Adele shrugged delicately and crossed shapely ankles. "I think Miss
Bestris must like you, or she wouldn't let you wear that dress again
tonight. You ought to watch out that you don't get on the wrong side of
her."
Mary laughed, her amethyst eyes sparkling. "I won't care. Not after
tonight."
"You're not going to run away?" June asked breathlessly. "You wouldn't
dare do that. You'd catch it, sure!"