“Can’t I escort you?”
“Not to-night. Some day, I hope”—and she stepped into the street and disappeared round the corner.
Punctually the next day she reappeared. Apart from her incomparable beauty—and every time she came, Middleton was more convinced that it was incomparable—she was a charming companion. She was very well read, and her knowledge of the world was wonderful.
“I wish it wasn’t rude to ask your age!” he exclaimed one day.
“Ah, I am older than I look. My work keeps me young.”
“Are you very busy, then?”
“I am always busy. But I don’t grudge the time I give to you. No, don’t thank me. I am to be paid, you know.” And she laughed merrily. If there were a flaw in her, it was her laugh. Middleton thought it rather a cruel laugh.
“Do you know,” he resumed, “you have never told me your name yet.”
“I am here incognita.”
“You will tell me some day?”