“At half past eight o’clock to-morrow evening, in the—in the Mulberry Garden”—she chose the place and time at haphazard.
“What!” cried his Highness, biting his lip: “so public!”
“O!” said Moll; “there’s nothing so private, for that matter, as a vizard. And—and he’s to wear a green scarf in his hat to be known by her, and she a green bow in her bosom to be known by him. If you doubt, you’d better go and see for yourself.”
My lord Duke’s countenance had fallen very glum. A shadow seemed to overspread his face.
“It is a good thought,” he said. “Kit, did you say?”
“Kit, sure.”
“Supposing I were to be Kit?”
Moll clapped her hands in delight.
“And pretending it,” she cried, “find out all about the other!”
“H’m!”