Her hands dropped from her face, and she turned it toward him mutely.
"It is not achievement you want, but success.

That is why," said he.
There was silence for a moment, broken by light footsteps on the stair and a knock.

"My good friends," cried Mademoiselle Palicsky from the doorway, "have you been quarrelling ?" She made a little dramatic gesture to match her words, which brought out every line of a black velvet and white corduroy dress, which would have been a horror upon an Englishwoman.

Upon Mademoiselle Palicsky it was simply an admiration-point of the kind never seen out of Paris, and its effect was instantaneous.

Kendal acknowledged it with a bow of exaggerated deference.
"_C'est parfait!_" he said with humility, and lifted a pile of studies off the nearest chair for her.
Nadie stood still, pouting.