“Humm ... m! I wonder if in this all-blessed corner I could venture to light my pipe?” And Salvières peeped cautiously round the open panel of the door. “There’s nobody about, as far as I can see,” he laughed, “and you know that I do not consider digestion perfect without a few whiffs of my trusty briar.” He was watching Basil covertly as he spoke, and was somewhat relieved to see the strained expression of his eyes relax a little. “I know. You’re lucky that Tatiana does not object to such a pernicious habit,” he interposed; “but there is nothing to ‘oxidize’ here, fortunately.” “Your sister,” the Duke averred, “is too fine a woman to object to anything I fancy. She’s true blue, like all the Palitzins. But what’s that you were saying about oxidizing?” “Nothing! Nothing! I was thinking of something else,” Basil hastily rejoined, repressing his untimely flash of memory, as he continually repressed similar ones. “Light your pipe first, and answer my question as soon as you have satisfied your brutal instincts,” he concluded, with a praiseworthy effort at banter. “Your question? Oh! Yes, of course!” dallied Salvières. “Well, it is not possible for me to give you a very complete opinion after ten minutes’ conversation with a lovely woman, my dear Basil. It is too large an order for yours truly.” He gave a wave of the hand descriptive of intricate complexities _ad infinitum_, and, deliberately leaning back on the luxurious cushions of the divan, began to puff at his trusty briar. “Nevertheless,” Basil said, frowning, “if you had something agreeable to say, you wouldn’t need half a dozen personal interviews to do so. It is first impressions that count.” “Not a bit of it!” Salvières contradicted. “Were you to ask my opinion of a passer-by--Lord, I hope there _is_ nobody around”--he interrupted himself, glancing at his pipe with mock apprehension--“I would satisfy your curiosity at once; but when it comes to passing judgment upon so considerable a personage as the Princess Basil Palitzin, my sister-in-law and your wife, words become momentous; although this does not exclude my assuring you that I found her interesting beyond all expression!” Basil, who was smoking a cigarette--a dainty Russian affair all white and gold, and long, hard mouthpiece--brusquely threw it into an ash-tray. “I am glad you found her interesting,” he put in, with averted eyes, “but there are a good many ways of being interesting. Why don’t you speak out? Surely it is natural for me to ask you how you like my wife!” Salvières sat suddenly up, drew his long legs under him tailor fashion, and stared at his friend and brother, rocking softly backward and forward as he did so. “My dear boy,” he said at last, “of course it is natural, but I cannot understand why you seem so worried about my opinion. I have just told you that I find your wife both surpassingly beautiful and extremely interesting. What more can I say _à première vue_?”