No one
possessed this especial perfume but Mrs. Jasher, and anyone who
had previously met her, meeting her in the darkness, could have
guessed at her identity. With a smile to show her white teeth,
with her golden-hued dress and glittering jewels, the pretty
widow glowed in that glimmering room like a tropical bird.
The Professor raised his dreamy eyes and laid the beetle on one
side, when his brain fully grasped that this charming vision was
waiting to be entertained. She was better to look upon even than
the beloved scarabeus, and he advanced to shake hands as though
she had just entered the room. Mrs. Jasher--knowing his ways--
rose to extend her hand, and the two small, stout figures looked
absurdly like a pair of chubby Dresden ornaments which had
stepped from the mantelshelf.
"Dear lady, I am glad to see you. You have--you have"--the
Professor reflected, and then came back with a rush to the
present century--"you have come to dinner, if I mistake not."
"Lucy asked me a week ago," she replied tartly, for no woman
likes to be neglected for a mere beetle, however ancient.
"Then you will certainly get a good dinner," said Braddock,
waving his plump white hands. "Lucy is an excellent housekeeper.
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