Immediately upon the opposite side of the writing-table sat one of the prettiest women that I have ever seen. Her colouring was superb. Beneath a snow-white skin all the wild beauty of a mountain-rose glowed in her cheeks; each time she moved, a flashing mystery of red and golden lights blazed from the auburn crown piled on her head; stars danced an invitation in the great grey eyes. Her small straight nose, the exquisite line of her face, her fairy mouth alone would have redeemed the meanest countenance. A plain black velvet dress, cut rather high at the throat, but leaving her lovely arms bare from the shoulder, and a complete absence of jewellery, showed that my lady knew how pictures should be framed.... With an effort I bent to my letter. From being difficult, however, the composition of another two pages of coherent prose had become formidable. Turning to the past, I could remember nothing. Looking into the future, I found myself blind. As for the present, I felt instinctively that a description of the curve of my _vis-à-vis'_ mouth would be out of place and might be misunderstood. I observed suddenly that my lady had stopped writing. After a moment she read over what she had written and put in two commas. Then she put a dash at the end of her last sentence. Such an addition had not occurred to me. For what it was worth, I adopted it surreptitiously. When I looked up, the tips of four pointed fingers were being regarded with some severity. Finally the girl laid down her pen, and, propping her chin on two ridiculous fists, stared dismally upon the neutral zone between our respective blotting pads. "Have you dealt with the weather?" said I. The stars, which had stopped dancing, leaped again into life. "Fully," she said. "And the place?" She nodded. "And the people staying in the hotel?" "I've just said they're all very dull." I wrote rapidly. Then-- "'The people here,'" I read, "'are nearly all very dull.'" For a moment she looked at me. Then she picked up her pen. "How," she demanded, with a dazzling smile, "do you spell 'nearly'?" "Only one 'r'," I replied. "Same as 'adorable.'" 'Nearly' went down--rather shakily. I pulled up my cuffs. "'Spanish furniture,'" I said, following my pen, "'is like the Spanish--on the large side. Everything is too big.'" "'--too big,'" said my lady, with her head on one side. "You see, my confidence in you is supreme." "One moment," said I. "There's only one 'w' in 'sweet,' isn't there?" "Yes," she said, bubbling. "Same as 'awful.'" I cleared my throat. "'The table, for instance,'" I continued, "'at which we--I am writing, is simply huge. If it were only half as wide, it would be much more--er--convenient.'" The two white shoulders began to shake with laughter. I thought very swiftly. Then-- "New paragraph," I said. "Half a page more," breathed my companion. I frowned. "'They have,'" I announced, "'quite a good Casino here.'"