“What ill can one say of us?” he asked, after a while. “How can a place be better than this?”
“I never said that any place could be better than this,” she asseverated; “but I am uncommon in my opinions. The average American is born in a land overflowing with steam-heat, ice-water, and bath-tubs, and he suffers when he has to lose the hyphens and use the nouns separately.”
Von Ibn frowned.
“You amuse yourself much with queer words to-day,” he said discontentedly. “I wish I have stayed with Jack. I was much pleasured with him.”
“But you said that you had to return because of some business,” she reminded him.
He raised his eyebrows, and they went on again. After a little she turned her eyes up to his and smiled.
“Don’t say that you wish you were with Jack. I am so glad that you are here.”
He returned the smile.
“I have no wish to be with your cousin,” he said amicably; “I find you much more agreeable.”
Then a little dog that a lady was leading by a long chain ran three times around his legs and half choked itself to death, and the lady screamed, and it was several minutes before all was calm again.