"I beg your pardon," said I. A little hand appeared and pulled the rug away from a small white nose and a mouth whose lips were paler than they should be. But it was a dear mouth.
"I said I didn't wink."
"So you did. I don't mean you did, you know. I mean, I know you said you didn't. I'm not sure I've got it right now."
"Never mind. I've only one brain, and at this hour of night—"
"The vitality of the human frame is at its lowest ebb. Exactly. That's why you must let me get you out of this as quick as possible."
"Oh, but I don't think—I mean—"
"My dear Eve, I know you come of an old-fashioned family—look at your father—but Convention's going by the board to-night. I'm staying at an inn about nine miles away. We'll be there under the half-hour. There's supper and a fire waiting for us, Why, yes, and you can have Jill's room. Of course, there'll be a fire there, too, and everything ready. You see—"
Hurriedly I explained the situation. When I had finished:
"But what'll the inn people think?" she said, with big eyes.
"Oh, hang the inn people?"