"By the way, Daisy, do any men ever come to your place--with the women, I mean?"
"Sometimes; the husbands or the brothers of the ladies."
"Exactly. I suppose they don't--I mean, I suppose you don't--what a fool I am! No matter. Are you going back there this evening?"
"Yes, Madame would not let me come until I promised to be back by six to see the parcels off. Madame's going to the Opera to-night, and she'll be dressing at the time, and she must have somebody there she can depend upon."
"And you are the somebody, Daisy? How deuced nice to be able to reckon upon finding you anywhere when one wanted you! No, I say; no one can see my arm, it's quite covered by your shawl, and it fits so beautifully round your waist, just as if you had been measured for it at Madame Clarisse's. Well, and what time will you be free?"
"Between eight and nine, I suppose; nearer nine."
"May I meet you when you come away, Daisy? Will you come with me to the theatre?"
"No, Paul; you know perfectly well that I will not. You know it is not of the slightest use proposing such things to me."
"Yes, I know it's of no use; I wish it were; it would be so jolly, and--then you'll go straight back to South Molton Street?"
"Yes; to my garret!" and she laughed, rather a hard laugh, as she said these words.