Then he blew out the candle. He was beside himself with excitement.
‘Diaz,’ I cried, ‘what’s the matter with you? Do have a little sense. And you’ve made me lose my slipper.’
‘I’ll carry you upstairs,’ he replied gaily.
A faint illumination came from the hall, so that we could just see each other. He lifted me off the chair.
‘No!’ I protested, laughing. ‘And my slipper.... The servants!’
‘Stuff!’
I was a trifle in those arms.