Martens, taking no notice, inquired whether she liked wine.
"I am not quite sure," said she frankly, "for I only had it once before. That was in Budapest, with a friend of mine. It was somebody's birthday."
"Have you traveled a great deal?"
"Yes, oh, yes." And she laughed. "A very great deal."
Then, seeing Rosing's frown at the other end of the table, she leaned across, smiled, and said pleadingly:
"Please don't be angry with me, Monsieur Rosing! I promise to work extra well to-morrow."
"Then do me the favor of going to bed now!"
This created a protest so universal that he was forced to add:
"Very well, you may stay for half an hour on condition that you go away at once and dress yourself properly!"
She vanished immediately. She had gained her point.
"Mais elle est délicieuse, la gosse!" said Martens enthusiastically. He winked at the others.
Rosing looked sulky. It really seemed to him ridiculous that his friends should suspect him of having an intrigue with a girl of fifteen or sixteen. He explained as much, emphasizing once again the extreme propriety of his relations with his pupil. As he talked, he began to feel that Lina was going to be more troublesome than he had at first supposed. Perhaps he had been too ready to regard her, not as a human being, so much as a doll, to be animated only by his own superior knowledge and intelligence. He had really given her no credit for possessing a character of her own, and now that supreme gesture of defiance, the pink tights, forced him against his will to reconsider this opinion.
He drank some more coffee, and said: "In any case