"What is your calling?" he countered; "for unless it is that of a witch or Brownie, I'm sure you don't look it."
"I am all of those things," she announced, calmly, crossing her dainty feet and gazing guilelessly at him. "I'm a witch, a Brownie, a sprite, an elf, a kobold, a pixie——"
"That's enough. They're all tarred with the same brush. And why am I favored with this angel visit?"
"So you may answer my question, which you so rudely ignored. Why are you a burglar?"
"But I'm not. Can your ingenuity suggest no explanation of a man's presence in another man's house at midnight save a burglarious motive? I took no jewels nor plate away with me."
"So you didn't. But, I admit motives seem scarce. You were not intending a social call, were you? You didn't come to read the meter or repair the plumbing? You were not seeking a lodging for the night?"
"None of those, Miss Brownie. But, why am I obliged to tell?"
"Because I ask it," and Zizi's pretty powers of coaxing were put to the utmost test.
"I admit that constitutes an obligation, but, I am not going to meet it," and the big man settled back comfortably in his chair and smiled benignly but a trifle exasperatingly.
"Then,—" and the little brown face became serious, the merry light went out of the dark eyes, and Zizi said, coldly, "Then I will tell you. You are a burglar,—you did take valuables from Mr. Crane's house,—at least they were valuable to you, though perhaps of small intrinsic worth."