There stood Anna-Felicitas.
Elliott stopped dead.
"This isn't fair," he said, his eyes twinkling and dancing.
"What isn't?" inquired Anna-Felicitas gently, beaming at him.
"Your being here. I've got to talk business. Look here, sir," he said, turning to Mr. Twist, "could you talk business with her there?"
"Not if she argued," said Mr. Twist.
"Argued! I wouldn't mind her arguing. It's just her being there. I've got to talk business," he said, turning to Anna-Felicitas,—"business about marrying you. And how can I with you standing there looking like—well, like that?"
"I don't know," said Anna-Felicitas placidly, not moving.
"But you'll interrupt—just your being there will interrupt. I shall see you out of the corner of my eye, and it'll be impossible not to—I mean I know I'll want to—I mean, Anna-Felicitas my dear, it isn't done. I've got to explain all sorts of things to your guardian—"
"He isn't my guardian," corrected the accurate Anna-Felicitas gently. "He only very nearly once was."