“I was looking at this charming wing. It is very chaste in design.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes I do, indeed,” he observed looking intently at the ornament on one of her fingers. “I admire it immensely, even as I do its wearer.”
Miss Lovejoyce looked down at the tesselated pavement of the conservatory, but she made no reply.
“I’m going to beg a favour of you,” said he, after a pause.
“A favour?”
“Yes. Will you grant it?”
“I must first know what it is.”
“But you would not wefuse me?”
“That depends.”