There was a slight pause. Sally gave the attentive poodle a piece of
nougat.

"I say," observed the red-haired young man in clear, penetrating tones
that vibrated with intense feeling, "that's the prettiest girl I've seen
in my life!"



2



At this frank revelation of the red-haired young man's personal
opinions, Sally, though considerably startled, was not displeased. A
broad-minded girl, the outburst seemed to her a legitimate comment on a
matter of public interest. The young man's companion, on the other hand,
was unmixedly shocked.

"My dear fellow!" he ejaculated.

"Oh, it's all right," said the red-haired young man, unmoved. "She
can't understand. There isn't a bally soul in this dashed place that can
speak a word of English. If I didn't happen to remember a few odd bits
of French, I should have starved by this time. That girl," he went on,
returning to the subject most imperatively occupying his mind, "is an
absolute topper! I give you my solemn word I've never seen anybody to
touch her. Look at those hands and feet. You don't get them outside
France. Of course, her mouth is a bit wide," he said reluctantly.