Mme. Storey smiled on him. "I have a horror of mosquitoes," she said to him as he came up, "and I want to ask you if there is any standing water on the place, or nearby. Any pond or pool or basin."
"No, Madame," was the reply. "Nothing of that sort anywhere in the neighbourhood."
"But are you sure?" she persisted sweetly. "They say that even a pan of water is enough if it's allowed to stand."
"Well, there's an old well down at the foot of the front lawn," he said good-humouredly.
To be invited to tea with you, and" (looking around the room) "alone!"
"Just me and Giannino and my friend Miss Brickley," said Mme. Storey.
He whirled around and bowed to me again, murmuring: "Charmed!" My hand was horribly self-conscious in the expectation that he might offer to kiss it.