Drink this milk, Mr.Aycon.Your arm's not very bad, you know--Jean says it isn't, I mean--but you'd better have milk first, and something to eat when you feel stronger." The duchess appeared to be in excellent spirits.

She caught up a bit of toast from the table, poured out a cup of coffee, and, still moving about, began a light breakfast, with every sign of appetite and enjoyment.
"You've come back ?" said I, looking at her in persistent surprise.
Suzanne put the cushions behind my back in a more comfortable position, smiled kindly on us, and left us.
"Yes," said the duchess, "I have for the present, Mr.Aycon." "But--but the duke--" I stammered.
"I don't mind the duke," said she.

"Besides, he may not come.

It's rather nice that you're just a little hurt.

Don't you think so, Mr.Aycon?
Just a little, you know." "Why ?" was all I found to say.