"An admirably done portrait, one of the best its author has painted, unusual, remarkable."--New York Times
o him, and he agreed with her and instanced a certain old duchess who, at the age of eighty, was preparing for a tour round the world when influenza stepped in and carried her off, to the great vexation of Thomas Cook and Son.
"We must remember that that duchess was an American," observed Sir Seymour.
"You mean that we Americans are more determined not to cease than you English?" she asked. "That we are very persistent?"
"Don't you think so?"
"Perhaps we are."
She turned and laid a hand gently, almost caressingly, on Lady Sellingworth's.
"I shall persist until I get you over to Paris," she said. "I do want you to see my apartment, and my bronzes--particularly my bronzes. When were you last in Paris?"
"Passing through or staying--do you mean?"
Lady Sellingworth was silent for an instant, and Craven saw the half sad, half mocking expression in her eyes.
"I haven't stayed in Paris for ten years," she said.
She glanced at Sir