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 waiting for Léon, in fact tapping her fingers in annoyance at his tardiness.

"The servant said he had just run out to telephone," she explained.

"The door was open when I came in. Perhaps she has gone to fetch him."

But this theory proved false, as the door presently slammed and the servant could be heard in the kitchen.

"She's none too amiable," said Léon's sister.

"I am very amiable," said Grover. "Perhaps I could be of some service."

She braced her feet against the arm of an ottoman, her hands clasped firmly on the edge of the piano-top. They were strong white hands, as white as though they had been soaked for hours in sea water.

"I'm in a very bad temper," she confessed.

"It suits you beautifully."

"Don't be silly," she said, and meant it. The toss of her head which accompanied the reprimand proved that her gray eyes were capable of occasional shafts of color.

"Well, since we're both waiting for Léon you might be nice enough to tell me what your bad temper is about. Of course I could go out and wait in the kitchen with the unamiable cook, if that would help."

"Mais, regardez donc!" she cried dramatically, twisting her leg and pointing to the back of her stocking.

"Is that all?" asked Grover in genuine surprise,