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Je ne parle pas francais-5
I had time to do all this before she replied. First she looked in the teapot, filled it with hot water, and stirred it with a spoon. "Yes, there is something the matter. No, I'm afraid you can't help, thank you." Again I got that glimmer of a smile. "I'm awfully sorry. It must be horrid for you." Horrid, indeed! Ah, why couldn't I tell her that it was months and months since I had been so entertained? "But you are suffering," I ventured softly, as though that was what I could not bear to see. She didn't deny it. She nodded and bit her under-lip and I thought I saw her chin tremble. "And there is really nothing I can do?" More softly still. She shook her head, pushing back the table, and jumped up. "Oh, it will be all right soon," she breathed, walking over to the dressing-table and
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