She was looking down,
very still, without colour, without glances, without voice, without
movement. It was only when Heyst addressed her in his courteous tone
that she raised her eyes.
"Excuse me," he said in English, "but that horrible female has done
something to you. She has pinched you, hasn't she? I am sure she pinched
you just now, when she stood by your chair."
The girl received this overture with the wide, motionless stare of
profound astonishment. Heyst, vexed with himself, suspected that she did
not understand what he said. One could not tell what nationality these
women were, except that they were of all sorts. But she was astonished
almost more by the near presence of the man himself, by his largely
bald head, by the white brow, the sunburnt cheeks, the long, horizontal
moustaches of crinkly bronze hair, by the kindly expression of the man's
blue eyes looking into her own. He saw the stony amazement in hers
give way to a momentary alarm, which was succeeded by an expression of
resignation.
"I am sure she pinched your arm most cruelly," he murmured, rather
disconcerted now at what he had done.
It was a great comfort to hear her say:
"It wouldn't have been the first time. And suppose she did--what are you
going to do about it?"
"I don't know," he said with a faint, remote playfulness in his tone
which had not been heard in it lately, and which seemed to catch her
ear pleasantly.
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