She had had two days of employment-seeking now. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. It was her job to keep the house as neat as a pin, up to the high standard that Sheila expected, being a nurse. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. I ought never to have thought of it.
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