Something drew you. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. He had studied alchemy and astronomy, was a capable painter, and even wrote music. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. ‘Or flew in by balloon, perhaps. ‘I have no idea. There would be no mercy in this man. Michelle’s eyes widened.
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