After searching the shelves unavailingly, he glanced over his shoulder and asked:
"Have you seen my copy of De Guerin's 'Centaur' anywhere about the house? I had it a week ago."
"I beg your pardon, sir, for causing such a fruitless search; here is the book. I picked it up on the front steps, where you were reading a few afternoons since, and it opened at a passage that attracted my attention."
She closed the volume and held it toward him, but he waved it back.
"Keep it if it interests you. I have read it once, and merely wished to refer to a particular passage. Can you guess what sentence most frequently recurs to me? If so, read it to me."
He drew a chair close to the hearth and lighted his cigar.
Hesitatingly Edna turned the leaves.
"I am afraid, sir, that my selection would displease you."
"I will risk it, as, notwithstanding your flattering opinion to the contrary, I am not altogether so unreasonable as to take offense at a compliance with my own request."
Still she shrank from the task he imposed, and her fingers toyed with the scarlet fuchsias; but after eyeing her for a while, he leaned forward and pushed the glass bowl beyond her reach.