It will be very stupid for you at a place like
this, but you will have a welcome, and it is the best we can do."
"It is the welcome I want," said Hugh. "But if you and your mother could
dine with me somewhere--"
"Another time we will."
There were to be other times, of course!
"And this evening," she went on, "we can talk of my beginning work, as
your secretary. It shall be directly after Christmas?"
"Whenever you are ready."
"I suppose you have friends to whom you will go for Christmas?"
"Not a friend."
"Oh, perhaps we might be together--all three?"
"I'll think of something pleasant for us to do, if you'll let me."
"How good you are! Then, till this evening. It will seem long till
then."
They shook hands once more. She had taken off her glove now, and her
palm left on his a reminiscence of Peau d'Espagne. He did not know what
the scent was, but it smelled rich and artificial, and he disliked to
associate it with his new friend. "But probably it's her mother's, and
she didn't choose it herself," he thought. "Well--I have a new interest
in life now.
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