‘I did that long ago,’ said Paul, ‘and that is why I fell in love with you. No,’ he broke off, blushing and stammering, ‘that is not why I fell in love; but that is why I never wanted to climb out again.’
‘Well,’ said Claudia gaily, ‘if you didn’t fall in love with my character, I’m sure I don’t know what else there is.’
‘You,’ said Paul rapturously. ‘Your beauty, Claudia. Don’t you ever look in the glass?’
‘How do you think I am to do my hair?’ she asked, laughing. ‘But seriously, now, Paul, you don’t think I’m a beauty? You never told me that before.’
‘Claudia,’ he said, reproaching her, ‘I’ve told you a thousand times.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Claudia, ‘in fun. But now, without nonsense—really? Am I pretty?’
‘No; you’re not pretty, Claudia. Pretty’s commonplace. You are lovely. I think you are the most beautiful woman in the world.’
‘You darling boy! There’s a kiss for that. No, no, no, Paul. Only a very little one. But I’m not so silly as to believe you, Paul.’
‘Claudia,’ said Paul—they had reached by this time to the brotherly and sisterly attitude, and sat on the couch together, with the sisterly arm round Paul’s neck—’ I was bitterly sorry to leave old Darco, and to let him think that I was ungrateful. I know how much he has done for me.’
‘I am sure I am not sorry to leave Darco,’ she said. ‘Grumpy, frumpy, stumpy, dumpy old German! I hate him!’