And my word's law—with you, at least," she added, bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband. "I was afraid it would be so. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. Most of it had been incomprehensible to her, or comprehensible in a way that checked further curiosity, but the figure of Vivien, hard, capable, successful, and bullying, and ordering about a veritable Teddy in the person of Frank Gardner, appealed to her. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her.
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