“Do you mean to say that you have formed a liking for me already?”
“It is hardly the word. I have been fascinated from the moment I first saw you.”
“I'm so glad,” she answered, without the slightest appearance of coquetry, and as simply and naturally as though she were talking about the weather. Paul was puzzled. He could not understand her, and not knowing how to proceed, an awkward silence followed. Presently she leaned her head upon her hand, her elbow resting on the table, and with a languid yet interested scrutiny of his face, said:
“You doubtless know the world, its people and ways, far better than I, and perhaps you wouldn't mind helping me with my book.”
“Indeed! You are writing a book, then?”
“No, but I should like to do so.”
“And may I ask what it is about?”
“It's about myself and Ah Ben, and the awful predicament into which we have fallen.”
“I should like greatly to help you,” said Paul, thinking the subject might lead to a clearer insight of the situation; “but even were I competent to do so, which I doubt, I can not see how any little worldly knowledge I might possess could possibly be of service in a description of your own life.”
“It is only that I should like to present our story in attractive form—one which would be read by worldly people.”