Miss Clara Montressor was a woman of about six-and-twenty, not tall, but what Mr. Duval called 'a good stage height,' not stout, but well developed. Her features were anything but faultless, yet her face, as a whole, was very pretty, and her expression quite charming. She had long lustrous eyes, which, whether they were green or gray, no one had ever been able to determine. Lord Alicampayne of the Life Guards said they were 'bwight blue,' but Miss Theresa Colombo of the T.R.D.L., whose salary was two pounds a week less than Miss Montressor's, and who did not get half so many bouquets, said they were 'cat's eyes.' Her nose was a little retroussé, but she had rich pouting lips, sound small white teeth, and her complexion was such as you only see on a peach, or on a lady who uses _Poudre à la Bismuth, dite Veloutine_. Her hair, which was one of her chief attractions, was gold-brown, and she had had the sense not to attempt to change its colour. Altogether, Miss Montressor was a very nice-looking person, and very becomingly dressed. So Mr. Bryan Duval thought, as he seated her on the divan and took up his position in one of the high-backed armchairs in front of her. Mr. Duval's thoughts about his present visitor, and indeed about most ladies, were wholly professional--his time was too valuable to be taken up with flirtation, and he had a free and-easy manner with him which, while it was very agreeable, obviously meant nothing. 'It was very good of you to come here this morning, Miss Montressor,' he commenced, sitting back and waving his scented pocket-handkerchief gently in the air--it was excellent Ess. Bouquet, and he knew that Patchouli and Jockey Club were about Miss Montressor's mark. 'It was very good of you to send for me, Mr. Duval,' said Miss Montressor, without the slightest embarrassment, 'and I was very glad to come--putting aside any question of business--I was anxious to see what you were like without any make-up.' 'Well,' said Duval, jumping up from his seat and striking an attitude, 'and how do you find me?' 'O, exactly the same,' replied the visitor; 'there is no mistaking those raven locks and those spikes,' drawing her finger across her upper lip. 'You are not like old Franklin, who is quite black, or rather quite blue, at night, and a lively piebald--like a horse in a circus--when he comes to rehearsal in the morning. O, it must be delightful to be made love to by you, more especially after a fortnight's Juliet to Hedger's Romeo, and Mr. Hedger always will take his supper between the acts, and he is so partial to spring onions.' 'Horrible Hedger!' cried Duval, throwing up his hands; 'my taste in that line, my dear, don't go beyond the slightest _soupçon_ of garlic, and I religiously deny myself that when I am acting. One great fault of our English actors is that they know nothing of the delicacies of the _cuisine_.'