'Yes, I am. And I've Bush manners--not up to your form. Please excuse
my impertinence.'

'I don't mind Bush manners. They're--rather refreshing sometimes. . . .
But'--again extending and then half-withdrawing her offering hand.
'You'd despise my cigarettes?'

He made an eager movement.

'No I shouldn't. Choose me one, won't you--two--if I may have one to
keep.'

'Why to keep?' She selected two of the dainty gold-tipped cigarettes,
and he received them almost as if they had been sacred symbols. One he
placed carefully, notwithstanding her laughing protest, in a
letter-case which he carried in an inner pocket. She tilted her face
forward for him to light the other cigarette at hers, and he did so,
always with that suggestion of reverence which sat so oddly upon him.
Mrs Gildea watching the pair was immensely struck by it.

He smoked in silence for a few moments, his eyes still apparently
fascinated by the glittering initials on the case which now Bridget
attached to her chatelaine chain. She threw away the end of her
cigarette.

'Well, so you've become the Governor's unconstitutional adviser?' she
said. 'Joan, do you know that Luke Tallant kept Mr McKeith talking and
smoking in the loggia just below my bedroom for hours last night after
every one had gone--I know, because I couldn't get to sleep.'