“I should love a motor!” sighed Miss Angela.
“You’re going to have one,” said the Duke. “But we must have something to eat first.”
“You talk as if you were a prince in disguise!” she laughed.
The Duke laughed too, reflecting that, as a matter of strict formality, he was entitled to the style she mentioned. In view of this fact he did not feel called upon expressly to deny the suggestion. There can be little doubt that his silence, to which perhaps she attributed too much significance, enhanced the pleasure of her ride.
“I’m to know you then only by that very funny name?”
In an examination of her profile—for which the light still sufficed—the Duke had grown abstracted. “What name?” he murmured vaguely.
“The one you told mamma—Devil! That’s not really your name?”
“Not exactly!” laughed the Duke.
“I should think not,” laughed the lady. Herself somewhat addicted to colloquial expressions, she failed to understand with what accuracy the Duke had phrased his reply.
“I shall think of you as the Prince of Darkness,” said she with the kindliest glance.