“Do you know him?” she asked, looking up at the man beside her; “oh, if you do, I do so wish that you would present him to me. He looks so utterly fascinating; I am sure that I shall like to talk to him.”
The American appeared frankly amused.
“I should really enjoy seeing you turned loose upon Von Ibn,” he said, “it would be such wild sport.”
“Then be nice and bring him to me, and you can have all the fun of standing by and watching us worry one another.”
Her friend hesitated.
“What is it?” she asked impatiently; “why don’t you go? Is there any reason why I may not meet him? Is he a gambler who doesn’t settle fair? Has he deserted his own wife, or run away with any other man’s? Does he lie, or drink beyond the polite limit, or what?”
“Why, the truth is,” said the American slowly, “many people consider him an awful bore. The fact is, he’s most peculiar. I’ve had him stare at me time and again in a way that made me wonder if he was full-witted. I don’t know anything worse against him than that, though.”
“If that’s all,” Rosina answered, laughing, “you need not fear for me. I’ve lived in good society too many years not to know how to deal with a bore. A little idiosyncrasy like that will not mar my enjoyment one bit. Do go and get him now.”
“But some consider him a very big bore indeed.”
“One can see that at the first glance, and just on that account I shall have infinite patience with him.”