`Belle mere, may I present Mrs. Fountain and her son John, who was up with me during my last year at Cambridge.' Then he added in English, `My stepmother, the Marquis de Grasse.'
The sitting room of this luxury suite was unusually spacious for an hotel, and from floor to ceiling one of its sides was composed entirely of sliding glass windows. But as the light was already fading and the Marquise was sitting with her back to them, it was difficult to tell her age. She was slim, extremely soignée, and, in the latest fashion, she had had several curls of her elaborately dressed dark hair dyed gold. Her eyes were round and blue, her mouth a little sulky looking. She was wearing a silk blouse, grey slacks with knife like creases, and over her shoulders a chinchilla fur. Extending a limp hand she said
`I am ver pleas to meet you. But my English, et ess not much good. You forgive? Perhaps you spik French?'
Molly's French being excellent, and that of both John and Christina adequate, most of the conversation which followed was carried on in that language. But the Marquise took little part in it; except to inform Molly a little later, while John and Jules were talking over old times, that although her husband owned houses in several parts of France, she much preferred to live for most of the year in hotels, as it was far less trouble.
They were already drinking cocktails, and while Jules made a fresh mix for the new arrivals, Christina said, `Madame la Marquise and Count Jules have been most kind. They insisted on my spending the afternoon here. He took me up to the old fort, then all round the harbour; and now they want me to stay and dine with them on their yacht.'
`I wish I were as young as you are and could still keep such hours,' Molly replied with a smile. `If I had been up till near dawn this morning I should be dropping asleep by now.'
Christina took the ball quickly. `That's just the trouble. I'm not used to late nights, and I really don't feel up to it.'
`Nonsense!' said Jules. `After a few glasses of champagne you will forget there is such a place as bed.'
`Unfortunately champagne does not agree with me. And as I told you some time ago, I already have quite a headache. Please don't think me rude, but I'd really rather go home.'
`If you are feeling like that it's lucky we turned up,' John put in casually. `We can give you a lift back, and save Jules from being late for his dinner.'
`No, no!' Jules protested. `A couple of aspirins will soon put your headache right, and we are not dining till nine; so if you wish you can lie down for an hour before we start. How about lying down for a while now? Belle mere will make you comfortable in our spare room.'
`No thank you. I'd rather not.'
He shrugged. `Well, our friends will not be going yet. See how you feel a little later on.' Turning to John, he added, `There are fireworks at Le Lavendou to night and we are taking the yacht round the cape to witness them. It would be a pity for her to miss that. I wish that I could ask you and your mother to accompany us, but unfortunately the dining space on the yacht is limited, and my father has already made up his party.'
Dismissing the matter, he then went on to talk about mutual friends they had known at Cambridge.
Outside darkness was falling rapidly, and during the quarter of an hour that followed Molly noticed a perceptible change in Christina. She had become much more lively as she described with enthusiasm the things she had seen with Count Jules that afternoon. When he switched on the lights and drew the curtains, she was laughing gaily about her big win at the tables the previous night, and saying that she could hardly wait to get back to them and try her luck again.
Scenting danger in her change of mood, Molly said to her, `John was going to suggest taking you in to Cannes again to morrow night. But you won't feel much like it if you don't get a good sleep to night; so from that point of view your decision to come home with us is a wise one. It is a great pity that you are feeling so rotten this evening and have to disappoint Count Jules, but I'm sure he will forgive you and ask you to go out on the yacht again some other time. And, talking of time, I really think it's time that we were going.'
`Oh, not yet!' cried Jules. `You have been here hardly twenty minutes, and Christina is looking better already. I feel sure she will keep her promise and come with us after all.'
`How late should we be?' Christina asked.
`We need not be late at all. We shall sit down to dinner as the yacht leaves harbour. The fireworks start at ten. They last only half an hour. The yacht will be back in her berth again by half past eleven. Normally we should then dance for a while; but if you wish I could run you straight home, and you would be in bed not long after midnight.'
`In that case . . .' Christina hesitated, then said with, for her, unusual brazenness, `Give me another cocktail, and while I am drinking it I will make up my mind.'
`But certainly!' As Jules jumped to his feet, to John's surprise his mother called out, `And me, too, if you please.' Then, with sudden apprehension, he saw her pick up and open her crocodile skin bag. But, to his considerable relief, she only took out her compact and powdered her nose.
When Jules had replenished their glasses, Molly drew John's attention to a rather novel arrangement of bookcases at the far end of the room, and suggested that they might be a good idea for incorporation in some of his designs. He had not previously mentioned the fact to the de Grasses that he had taken up interior decorating as a profession, but he did so now, while they were all looking at the bookcases.
The Marquise showed a sudden interest, and asked his opinion of the room, which she had had redecorated to her own specification. It displayed considerable taste, so he was able truthfully to compliment her upon it, before making a few tactful suggestions on quite minor points.
For a few minutes they discussed them. Then John happened to glance at Christina. Her face had gone deadly white. With quick concern he asked
`I say; you're looking awfully pale. Are you feeling all right?'
She shook her head. `No ... I ... I feel awfully queer.'
The Marquise uncoiled her long legs in the beautifully tailored grey slacks, and said, `Poor little one. Would you like to go to the bathroom? Come with me. I will take you there.'
`No,' murmured Christina. `I don't want to be sick. I ... just feel muzzy.' She pointed to her glass, which was nearly empty, and added, `That ... that last cocktail must have been too much for me.'
`Drinking a spot too much when one is overtired often has that effect,' John remarked. `But this settles it. She must come home with us; and the sooner the better.'
`No!' A sharp note had crept into Jules' voice. `She shall stay here until she recovers. Belle mere, oblige me, please, by taking her to your room and looking after her.'
`I'm afraid that is not a very good idea,' John countered smoothly. `She'll only fall asleep, and wake up in a few hours' time feeling like hell. Then you would have the unenviable task of driving her home.'
John's contention was amply supported by the fact that, although Christina was trying to keep her head up, it now kept falling forward on to her chest. But Jules replied coldly
`I should not in the least mind putting myself out a little for a young guest of mine who has been taken ill.'
`Perhaps; but has it occurred to you that someone will have to stay with her, and that if your stepmother does so it would mean depriving her of the party and your father's other guests of their hostess?'
`That can be overcome. My stepmother's maid is most competent.'
`But,' Molly put in, `it would be bad for the girl when she wakes, to be taken for a twenty five mile drive.'
Jules' black eyes had gone as hard as pebbles as he turned them on her. `She can. stay here for the night. What is to prevent her?'