But John Turner was not a man to quarrel with, even when one was in the wrong.
So I kept silence and burnt my lips at my coffee cup.
"Well," he went on placidly, "Mademoiselle Lucille is a pretty girl." "Lucille," I said.

"Is that her name ?" He cocked his eye at me across the table.
"Yes--a pretty name, eh ?" "It is," I answered him, with steady eyes.

"I never heard a prettier.".