"Well, he'd no right to be stuffy if another fellow took care of you when he couldn't be bothered to."
"You know it wasn't that. You know it was a mistake."
"I know a good deal," he said, "more than you think for." And he smiled, trying to meet her eyes.
"It's cold here," she found herself saying. "I was just going up. I don't like dungeons. Do you?"
"I like this one," said he. "Anywhere where you are, don't you know—a palace and all that—"
"I really must go," she said. "My brother won't know where I am."
"No," he said, with meaning, "he won't." And he set his two hands to the pillars of the arch under which he stood and swayed to and fro, looking at her.
"I must really go. Will you let me pass, Mr. Schultz, please."
"Not till you tell me to send for my car. I've set my heart on those drives with you. Our brother can stay behind if he doesn't care for motoring. I don't want him, and I'll take care you don't miss him."
"Do, please," she said, "let me pass."