"I thought you hated to be alone."
"I did, the other day, in that drawing-room; but not in this. People
are all kind in this."
"You are right. Our hostess is most genial and sympathetic."
"And the guests are nice, too," said Prissie; "at least, they look
nice."
"Ay, but you must not be taken in by appearances. Some of them only
look nice."
"Do you mean--" began Prissie in her abrupt, anxious voice.
Hammond took alarm. He remembered her peculiar outspokenness.
"I don't mean anything," he said hastily. "By the way, are you fond of
pictures?"
"I have scarcely ever seen any."
"That does not matter. I know by your face that you can appreciate
some pictures."
"But, really, I know nothing of art."
"Never mind. If the painter who paints knows you----"
"The painter knows me? I have never seen an artist in my life."
"Nevertheless, there are some artists in the world who have conceived
of characters like yours. There are some good pictures in this house.
Shall I show you one or two?"
Prissie sprang to her feet.
"You are most kind," she said elusively. "I really don't know how to
thank you."
"You need not thank me at all; or, at any rate, not in such a loud
voice, not so impressively. Our neighbors will think I have bestowed
half a kingdom upon you.
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