He had what is generally known as
feminine intuition, a quality perhaps even rarer in women than in men.
* * * * *
Tonight the persistently hospitable Mrs Mitchell had a large party.
Dressed in grey, she was receiving her guests in the big room on the
ground floor, and tactfully directing the conversation of a crowd of
various and more or less interesting persons.
It was one of those parties that had been described as a Russian Salad,
where one ran an equal risk--or took an equal chance--of being taken to
dinner by Charlie Chaplin or Winston Churchill, and where society and
the stage were equally well represented. Young officers on leave and a
few pretty girls filled the vacancies.
As Bruce, Edith and Madame Frabelle came in together, Landi went
straight to Edith's side.
Looking at her through his eyeglass, he said, as if to himself, in an
anxious tone:
'Elle a quelquechose, cette enfant; oui, elle a quelquechose,' and as
the last guest had not arrived he sat down thoughtfully by her on the
small sofa.
'Yes, Landi, there is something the matter. I'm longing to tell you
about it. I want your advice,' said Edith, smiling.
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