And mounting his bicycle he rode away.
“Don’t you see you are making him terribly conceited?” said the Little China Doll. “It is absurd of you. Try to be more sensible.”
“I love him so, I love him so!” sobbed the Little Dancer. “My heart is broken.”
On the morrow the Bicycle-man appeared as usual.
“It is all settled,” he said. “I hope to marry the doll to whom the Red House belongs, before the week is out. I fear my marriage will be a disappointment to many a lady.”
The Little Dancer made no reply: she was too heart-broken to utter a sound.
“Are you not going to wish me happiness?” he asked.
But the Little Dancer still spoke not. She danced faster and faster as the tears fell from her eyes.
The Bicycle-man did not notice how quickly her tears were falling.
“Your silence is a sad want of manners,” he said. “Uncivility is far from attractive.”