Do you paint, Mr.Hamel ?" "Not at all," Hamel answered.
"Our friend Hamel," Mr.Fentolin intervened, "woos other and sterner muses.

He fights nature in distant countries, spans her gorges with iron bridges, stems the fury of her rivers, and carries to the boundary of the world that little twin line of metal which brings men like ants to the work-heaps of the universe.

My dear Florence," he added, suddenly turning to the woman at his other side, "for the moment I had forgotten.
You have not met our guest yet.

Hamel, this is my sister-in-law, Mrs.
Seymour Fentolin." She held out her hand to him, unnaturally thin and white, covered with jewels.

Again he saw something in her eyes which stirred him vaguely.
"It is so nice that you are able to spend a few days with us, Mr.
Hamel," she said quietly.