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" And Briggs rose slowly and
searched in a mysterious drawer which he invariably kept locked.
"'Ere she is, as large as life, Mamzelle," he continued, exhibiting a
"promenade" photograph of the actress in question. "There's a neck for
you! There's form! Vi, my dear, I saloot you!" and he pressed a sounding
kiss on the picture--"you're one in a million! Smokes and drinks like a
trooper, Mamzelle!" he added admiringly, as Louise Renaud studied the
portrait attentively. "But with all 'er advantages, you would not call
'er a lady. No--that term would be out of the question. She is wot we
men would call an enchantin' female!" And Briggs kissed the tips of his
fingers and waved them in the air as he had seen certain foreign
gentlemen do when enthusiastic.
"I comprehend," said the French maid, nodding emphatically. "Then, if
she is so, what makes that proud Seigneur Bruce-Errington visit her?"
Here she shook her finger at Briggs. "And leave his beautiful lady wife,
to go and see her?" Another shake.


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