‘Did you hear what I said?’ she asked.
Stella looked up from her novel reluctantly. As she did so, she reached out her hand for another chocolate – a large one, ornamented with a crystallised violet on the top. She was extremely pretty as she lay there, dressed in a pink satin gown which the Rajah had brought her in Paris. It threw a delicate flush over her white skin and brought into prominence the blue of her eyes. It also accentuated very noticeably the curves of her figure, which seemed to Chrissie to have grown even more pronounced during the last few days at the Villa.
‘Stop eating chocolates and listen to me, Stella. You’ll be getting as fat as a porker if you go on like that. The food here is too rich.’
‘It’s jolly good,’ Stella replied, ‘and I like François.’
‘He talks too muc
