“I’m sorry for that,” said Esmeralda. “Not that it matters—I shouldn’t have gone.”
“Indeed!” he said, rolling another cigarette. “So you will have to do with The Penman; and I shall take it as a favor if you cease to worry what remains of his hair off head, and learn as much as you can without any great inconvenience.”
“Oh! if you make a favor of it, Varley, all right—although I don’t see the use of it.”
“Well, you see,” he said, slowly, “you are growing up; you will marry some day—”
She received the information with an expansion of her glorious eyes.
“Shall I? I know who I shall marry!”
“I’m glad to know that,” said Varley; “it simplifies matters.”
“Yes—yes, I shall marry you, Varley, dear,” she remarked, coolly, as she wound a wreath of wild flowers round her hat.
“I think not,” said Varley.