Touched by the fact that he had been waiting to read his beloved papers until she should be ready to rise, she threw her arms passionately round his neck and crushed her face into his. Daily it became clearer to her that he adored her; and yet she could scarcely believe it, because she felt so young--even childish--and so crude and insipid. She determined with a whole-souled resolve that renewed itself every hour to stop at nothing to please him. "Do I make you happy?" she whispered almost inarticulately, her lips being buried in his cheek. "You do." After a moment she sprang up, seized her thin, loose, buttonless dressing-gown, and having somehow got into it, opened the window and violently pushed back the shutters. Strong sunlight rushed blazing into the room like an army into a city long besieged and at last fallen. Millions of buoyant motes were revealed, and all the minutest details of the chamber. Lilian looked out. There were the shady gardens of the hotel, the white promenade with strolling visitors in pale costumes, the calm ultramarine Mediterranean, the bandstand far to the right emitting inaudible music, the yellow casino, beyond the casino the jetty with its group of white yachts, and, distant on either side, noble and jagged mountains, some of them snow-capped. Incredible! She heard Felix moving within the room, and turned her head. "Darling, what are you doing?" "Ringing for your coffee." "What time is it?" "Haven’t the least." "But your watch?" "Haven’t got it on." "But you’re all dressed." "Haven’t put my things in my pockets." She clasped his arm and led him silently through the bathroom into his own bedroom, and up to the night-table, the drawer of which she pulled open. All his "things" were arranged carefully therein. "Oh! Men are funny!" she laughed. The number and the variety of the articles they carried in their innumerable pockets! "_I_ will put your things in your pockets," she said, and began to do so. "Wrong!" he would protest from time to time; but he would give no positive direction, and she had to discover the proper pocket by experiment. It was a most wonderful operation, and it deliciously illustrated the exotic, incomprehensible, exquisite curiousness of men. She was proud of having thought of it, and proud of the pleasure in his face. As she glanced at the watch her brow puckered. "I shall be frightfully late!" "It is impossible to be late where time does not exist." "Is that Jacqueline with my coffee?" she said, listening, and ran back to her room, pulling him after her. Yes, she admitted she was a perfect child, but she could not help it. While she drank the coffee he put on his eyeglasses and opened the newspapers, one English, one French. She went into the bathroom. "Felix! Felix!" she called presently from the bathroom. "Bring me in that soft towel I’ve left on the chair by the writing-table."