Therefore, when, in the corner of the patio, the next opportunity arose for asking the question, "Who is Miriam?" he brought it out boldly.
"She's a darling." The unexpected reply was accompanied by a sudden lifting of the lashes for a rapturous look and one of the flashing smiles.
"That's high praise—from you."
"She deserves it—from any one!"
"Why? What for? What has she done to win your enthusiasm when other people find it so hard?"
"It isn't so hard—only some people go the wrong way to work about it, do you see?"
She leaned back in her wicker chair, fanning herself slowly, and smiling at him with that air of mingled innocence and provocation which he found the most captivating of her charms.
"Do I?" he was tempted to ask.
"Do you? Now, let me think. Really, I never noticed. You'd have to begin all over again—if you ever did begin—before I could venture an opinion."
This was pretty, but it was not keeping to the point.