Hermon sat back in his chair and watched her. He thought he had never seen her lovelier than she looked in the homely simplicity of a graceful tea-gown, and her thick black hair coiled in a large loose knot low on her neck. It gave her an absurdly youthful air, that somehow seemed far removed from the brilliant star as he knew her on the stage. Then she came towards him, and stood beside him, resting one foot on the fender and one hand on the mantelpiece; and he saw, with swift seeing, the shapeliness of the long, thin fingers and the graceful, rounded arm. “You are thoughtful, _mon ami_,” she said, with a soft lightness. “Tell me what you are thinking of.” “I don’t know. I don’t think I am thinking at all. I feel rather as if I were sunning myself in your smiles, like a cat.” “You like being here, like this?” “I love it.” “Then come often. Why not?” “I shall bore you.” “I think not. It is pleasant to me also to have some one keeping me company in such a natural, homely way. You see, I am very much alone. I have no women friends except Hal, who is nearly always engaged; and there are not many men one can invite to come and sit by one’s fireside. You seem to come so naturally and simply. It is clever of you. Very few men could. It is difficult to believe you are only twenty-four.” “I fancy years often do not go for very much. I have travelled about alone a great deal. Anyhow, you are just as young for thirty-two as I am old for twenty-four.” “Hal has helped to keep me young. She restores me like some patent elixir. I suppose I love her more than any one in the world.” “I’m not surprised,” he answered. “A good many people love Hal. Dick and Quin just dote on her.” She looked at him keenly a moment. “I am spared wasting my affection,” he added, “by her obvious contempt for me.” “She doesn’t mean any of it. She only wants to rouse you.” “Still, she succeeds in making me feel rather a worm.” Lorraine made no comment, but she could not resist a little inward smile at the thought of any one making such a man feel a worm. She realised there might be no harm in the leavening influence. The clock struck seven, and he gave a start, rising quickly to his feet beside her. Lorraine was a little under medium height if anything, and as they stood together he seemed to tower above her like some splendid prehistoric human, while she appeared as some exquisite miniature, or frail and perfect piece of Dresden china. And again it seemed as if his physical beauty acted upon her with some irresistible magnetism, flowing round her and over her and through her, till she was enveloped and obsessed by him. His age was nothing, years are mere detail; she felt only that he was a splendid creature, and everything in her gloried in it. She rested her hand lightly on his arm. “How big you are. You almost overpower me.” He smiled down at her, but it was just a quiet, friendly smile, and she could not tell if her touch stirred him.