"Oh, nonsense, you don't want it."
"Indeed I do. I must have it."
"Will you promise not to show it to anybody?"
"'Course not! I'll show it to everybody!"
"Then you can't have it. I'm sensitive, I admit, but I can't bear to have the children of my brain bruited to the world——"
"I haven't a notion what bruited means, but I promise you I won't do that. I'll keep it sacredly guarded from human eyes, and read it to myself when I'm all alone. Why, Mr. Blaney, it's a wonderful poem. I've simply got to have it, and that's all there is about that!"
"I give it to you, then, but don't,—please don't show it to the hilarious populace. It is for you only."
"All right. I'll keep it for me only. But I haven't half thanked you for it. I do appreciate it, I assure you, and I feel guilty because I underrated your talent. But perhaps it is because I saw you do it, that I care so very much for it. Anyway, I thank you."
Patty held out her hand in genuine gratitude, and, taking it gently, Blaney held it a moment as he said, "I claim my reward. May I come to see you in New York?"
"Yes, indeed, I'll be awfully glad to have you. And Alla must come, too. I'll make a party for you as soon as the wedding is over. Will you be at that?"