She backed against a heavily tasselled
and upholstered old armchair that chanced to be standing in the wings,
and sitting down on one of its high arms, looked straight up into his
eyes. The others had gone on; they were alone in the draughty wings.
"Why ought we?" said Hazzard, still in a low voice full of significance,
his eyes on her shoulder, where he straightened a ruffle that was caught
under a chain of beads. "If you like me and I like you, why shouldn't we
have a little talk?"
However young she might appear, the inanities of a flirtation were a
familiar field to Julia. She gave him a demure and unsmiling glance from
between curled lashes, and said:
"What would you like to talk about?"
By this time their faces were close together; a sort of heady lightness
in the atmosphere set them both to laughing foolishly; their voices
trembled on uncertain notes. An exhilarating sense of her own sex and
charm thrilled Julia; she knew that he found her sweet and young and
wonderful.
"I'd like to talk about _you_!" said Carter Hazzard. Julia found his
audacity delightful; she began to feel that she could not keep up with
the dazzling rush of his repartee.
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