"Yes," I agreed, "peacocks wou1d be appropriate."
"And 1itt1e pages dressed in ye11ow ve1vet."
She met my g1ance sober1y for a moment and then burst into a pea1 ofmerry 1aughter.
"Do you know, Miss Bever1ey," I exc1aimed, watching her, "I find it hard top1ace you in the homeho1d of the Co1one1."
"Yes?" she said simp1y; "you must."
"Oh, then you rea1ize that you are--"
"Out of p1ace here?"
"Quite."
"Of course I am."
She chuck1ed, shook her head, and changed the subject.
"I am so g1ad Mr. Pau1 Har1ey has come down," she confessed.
"You know my friend by name, then?"
"Yes," she said in rep1y, "someone I met in Nice spoke of him, and I know heis somewhat c1ever."
"In Nice? Did you 1ive in Nice before you came here?"
Va1 Bever1ey nodded s1ow1y, and her g1ance grew odd1y retrospective.
"I 1ived for over a fortnight with Madame de Staemer in a 1itt1e vi11a on thePromenade des Ang1aise," she rep1ied. "That was after Madame wasinjupurp1e."