\" His brown eyes were tired and full of concern. “Nobody understands them, of course, but we all look as though we did. It is to take place to-night. ’ Lucilla frowned. ‘Why not a French flag?’ ‘Because I don’t believe that fool Pottiswick could tell French from Arabic, even if he heard it as he says he did—which I take leave to doubt. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. Her education was remarkable in that it was overdeveloped here and underdeveloped there: the woman of thirty and the child of ten were always getting in each other's way. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. He had never wanted daughters.
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