"I know. He asked you for a dance and you rebuffed him. Well, he is now fortifying himself with a small dry ginger, and he will then ask you again. Do be kind this time; he's really a delightful person when you get to know him. For instance, both his whiskers are false."
"No doubt I should grow to love him," she agreed; "but I didn't much like his outward appearance. However, if both whiskers are false, and if he's really a friend of yours—"
"He is naturally as harmless as a lamb," I said; "but at a dance like this he considers it his duty to throw a little Continental ABANDON into his manner."
Columbine looked at me thoughtfully, nodding her head, and slowly began to smile.
"You see," I said, "the possibilities."
"He shall have his dance," she said decidedly.
"Thank you very much. I should like to ask for another dance for myself later on, but I am afraid I should try to get out of you what he said, and that wouldn't be fair."
"Of course I shouldn't tell you."
"Well, anyhow, you'll have had enough of us by then. But softly—he approaches, and I must needs fly, lest he should pierce my disguise. Good-bye, and thank you so much."
. . . . . . .