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Her father's oiliness offended
her. Scaramouche was clearly a great gentleman, an eccentric if you
please, but a man born. And she was to be his lady. Her father
must learn to treat her differently.
She looked shyly - with a new shyness - at her lover when he came
into the room where they were dining. She observed for the first
time that proud carriage of the head, with the chin thrust forward,
that was a trick of his, and she noticed with what a grace he moved
- the grace of one who in youth has had his dancing-masters and
fencing-masters.
It almost hurt her when he flung himself into a chair and exchanged
a quip with Harlequin in the usual manner as with an equal, and it
offended her still more that Harlequin, knowing what he now knew,
should use him with the same unbecoming familiarity.

CHAPTER IX
THE AWAKENING

"Do you know," said Climene, "that I am waiting for the explanation
which I think you owe me?"
They were alone together, lingering still at the table to which
Andre-Louis had come belatedly, and Andre-Louis was loading himself
a pipe.


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