Oh! do sit down, de Batz," she continued, talking rather volubly, even as a delicate blush heightened the colour in her cheeks under the look of obvious admiration from Armand St.Just's expressive eyes.
She swept a handful of delicate cambric and silk from off a chair, making room for de Batz' portly figure.

Then she sat upon the sofa, and with an inviting gesture and a call from the eyes she bade Armand sit down next to her.

She leaned back against the cushions, and the table being close by, she stretched out a hand and once more took up the bunch of narcissi, and while she talked to Armand she held the snow-white blooms quite close to her face--so close, in fact, that he could not see her mouth and chin, only her dark eyes shone across at him over the heads of the blossoms.
"Tell me all about England," she reiterated, settling herself down among the cushions like a spoilt child who is about to listen to an oft-told favourite story.
Armand was vexed that de Batz was sitting there.

He felt he could have told this dainty little lady quite a good deal about England if only his pompous, fat friend would have had the good sense to go away.
As it was, he felt unusually timid and gauche, not quite knowing what to say, a fact which seemed to amuse Mlle.

Lange not a little.
"I am very fond of England," he said lamely; "my sister is married to an Englishman, and I myself have taken up my permanent residence there." "Among the society of emigres ?" she queried.
Then, as Armand made no reply, de Batz interposed quickly: "Oh! you need not fear to admit it, my good Armand; Mademoiselle Lange, has many friends among the emigres--have you not, mademoiselle ?" "Yes, of course," she replied lightly; "I have friends everywhere.