Keith, meeting the open air, began to feel his exhilaration.
"What I need is my head under a pump for about ten seconds," he told Sansome frankly. "Lord! It was just about time I got away."
Arrived at the hotel, Sansome said good-bye, but Keith would have none of it.
"No, no!" he cried. "You must come in, now you've come so far! I want you to meet my wife; she'll be delighted!"
And Sansome, whose celebrated social tact had been slightly obscured by his potations, finally consented. Truth to tell, it would have been a little difficult for him to have got away. Poising his light stick and gloves in his left hand, giving his drooping moustache a last twirl, and settling his heavy cravat in place, he followed Keith down the little hall to the Sherwoods' apartments.
At the knock Keith was at once invited to enter. The men threw open the door. Sansome stared with all his might.
Nan Keith had made the usual miraculous recovery from seasickness once she felt the solid ground beneath, her. The beautiful baby-textured skin had come alive with soft colour, her dark, wide, liquid eyes had brightened. She had assumed a soft, silken, wrapperlike garment with, a wide sash, borrowed from Mrs. Sherwood; and at the moment was seated in an enveloping armchair beneath a wide-shaded lamp. The firm, soft lines of her figure, uncorseted in this negligée, were suggested beneath the silk. Sansome stopped short, staring, his eyes kindling with, interest. Here was something not only new but different--a distinct addition. Sansome, like most dilettantes, was something of a phrase maker, and prided himself on the apt word. He found it here, to his own satisfaction, at least.
"Her beauty is positively creamy!" he murmured to himself.
At sight of her Keith crossed directly to her, full of a sudden, engaging, tender solicitude.
"How are you feeling now, honey?" he inquired. "Quite recovered? All right now?"
But Nan was inclined to be a little vexed and reproachful. She had been left alone, with strangers, altogether too long. Keith excused himself volubly and convincingly--she had been asleep--she was much better off not being disturbed--that this was true was proven by results--she was blooming, positively blooming--as fresh as a rose leaf--of course it was rather an imposition on the Sherwoods, but the baggage hadn't come up yet, and they were kind people, our sort, the sort for whom the word obligation did not exist--he, personally, had not intended being gone so long, but by the rarest of chances he had run across some of the men to whom, he had introductions, and they had been most kind in making him acquainted--nothing was more important to a young lawyer than to "establish connections"--it did not do to overlook a chance.