He took his cane and drew a line in the dust between two of the cement blocks of the sidewalk, and then he lifted his eyes to hers with a smile so sweet and bright, so liquidly warm and winning, that it metamorphosed him for the nonce into a rarely handsome man.
Few women are proof against such smiles, or the men who can produce them at will, and the remnants of Rosina’s wrath faded completely as she saw its dawning. It seemed futile to try to be cross with any one who had such magic in his face, and so she returned the glance in kind.
“And you will walk home on the outside, will you not?” she asked, quite secure as to his answer now.
He laughed lightly and turned to continue on their way.
“Of a surety not,” he said; “but we will be from now on very sympathique, and never so foolishly dispute once more.”
At the dinner-party that evening was the young American who was engaged to the girl at Smith College.
“I saw you walking with Von Ibn this afternoon,” he said to Rosina as they chanced together during the coffee-and-cigarette period.
“Where?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing you anywhere.”
“No; he appeared to engross you pretty thoroughly. I feel that I ought to warn you.”