“You will see that I really interest myself in you.”
Just then some one in front trod on a dog, which yelped violently for three minutes; for a brief space speech was impossible, and then they were on the gang-plank, and he bent above her once more.
“I want to ask you something; will you do it if I ask you?”
“What is it?”
“Will you promise me to do it?”
They were now squeezing past the ticket kiosque.
“It is this—”
A man behind stepped on Rosina’s skirt and nearly pulled her over backward; something ripped violently and she gave a low cry. The man said, “Mille pardons,” and Von Ibn looked ready to murder him.
“Are you undone?” he asked her solicitously.