"Why was it?" she demanded suddenly. For a few minutes they had been silent, and Paul had revised his estimate. She could hardly be as old as twenty two. Perhaps she might be twenty.
"Really you are exaggerating," he laughed. "I was neither astonished nor shocked. I was only surprised, and when I tell you why I shall no longer be a man of mystery, consequently I shall no longer be a man of interest."
"But my curiosity will be satisfied. Isn't that quite as important?"
He shook his head. His own curiosity was far from satisfied. He was still wondering why she had no kind word to say for his music.
"I was just surprised to find you there—alone," he said at last.
"Oh!"
Until the 'bus swung into view of the Metropolitan tower neither of them spoke, and then the man turned to look at his companion and found her smiling to herself. It struck him that if she would only laugh aloud, it would be worth hearing. But of that, at that moment, he said nothing.
"Won't you share the joke with me?" he smiled, and she said:
"I was just thinking of your solicitude about my being alone on Fifth avenue, after all the formidable places where I've been alone—in one-night stands."
"One-night stands?" he repeated vaguely after her and she replied only with a matter-of-fact nod, then, for his further enlightenment: