Peter watched, and admired.
"And I asked whether he was versatile!" he muttered. "Trust an
Italian for economising labour. It looks like unwarrantable
invasion of friendly territory--but it's a dodge worth
remembering, all the same."
He drew the Duchessa's letter from his pocket, and read it
again, and again approached it to his face, communing with that
ghost of a perfume.
"Heavens! how it makes one think of chiffons," he exclaimed.
"Thursday--Thursday--help me to live till Thursday!"