‘Have I been good to-day?’ the imp asked, laying her head upon his shoulder, and turning up those starlike, unfathomable eyes of hers.
‘You have behaved like an angel for temper,’ Paul responded, ‘and like an elderly diplomatist for discretion.’
‘You are satisfied?’ said Bill, rolling her golden curls in her Tam-o’-Shanter cap.
‘I am not merely satisfied, William,’ Paul responded. ‘Words fail me to express my gratitude.’
‘Don’t you begin to chaff me,’ said Bill. ‘If you do, I shan’t make the bargain I was going to.’
‘I assure you,’ said Paul, ‘that I was never more serious in my life. I swear it by the most sacred of man’s possessions—gold. This is an English sovereign.’
‘For me?’ asked Bill, her lambent eyes regarding him as if no thought of greed or bribery could touch the angel’s soul which shone through them.
‘For you,’ said Paul.
‘Right oh!’ Bill replied, biting at the coin with her milk-white teeth, and then bestowing it in her pocket. ‘Now, if you’ll promise never to leave Madge alone about one thing, I’ll be as good—as good—you can’t guess anything as good as I’ll be.’
‘There’s no such thing as a one-sided bargain,’ said Paul, ‘and you must let me know what you expect from me in answer to this astonishing confession.’