"Would she—er—do you think, as I'm an American, and we're almost old friends, mind letting you have lunch just with me alone? Of course, if she would mind, you must say no. But I must confess, I'm hungry as a wolf; and it would be somewhere to sit and talk together, quietly, you know."
"You are hungry," echoed the girl. "Ah, I would wager something that you don't really know what hunger is. But I know—now."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean it is well my mother is ill, and doesn't wish to eat, for there would be nothing for her, if she did."
"I have had nothing to eat since yesterday morning, and then only a biscuit with a glass of water."
"My poor girl, we won't say anything more about chaperons. Come along with me to Ciro's this instant, to lunch, and tell me everything."
He was completely won over now, and looked very handsome, with a slight flush on his brown face, and his dark eyes bright with excitement.
The girl lowered her long lashes, perhaps to hide tears.
When she did this, and drooped the corners of her mouth, she was very engaging, and the young man tingled all over with pity. That poor, pretty creature, starving, in her charming pink dress and hat of roses. How strange life was! It was something to be thankful for that he had met her.