This belonged to Savina and him; they were
accountable only to each other. It was a sensation like the fortunate
and exhilarating effect of exactly the right amount of wine. The
emotion that flooded them had freed Lee from responsibility; sharpening
one set of perceptions, it had obliterated the others, creating a
spirit of holiday from which nothing prosaic, utilitarian, should
detract.
They hadn't yet decided where to go for dinner; and, drawing aside into
a small reception room to embrace and consider, they selected the
Lafayette, because its Continental air assisted the illusion of their
escape from all that was familiar and perfunctory. Their table, by a
railing overlooking the sweep of the salle ? manger, was precisely
placed for their happiness. It was so narrow that the heels of Savina's
slippers were sharply pressed into his insteps; when her hand fell
forward it rested on his. Lee ordered a great deal, of which very
little was eaten; the hors d'oeuvre appeared and vanished, followed by
the soup and an entr?e; a casserole spread the savory odor of its
contents between them; the salad was crisply, palely green, and
ignored; and, before it seemed humanly possible, he had his cigar and
was stirring the French coffee.
"Shall we be late for the theatre?" he asked indifferently.
"I haven't the least interest in it," Savina assured him; "I can't
imagine why we bought the seats.
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