"I have thought twice—and twice a million times over."
"Twice a million times over—I wonder how much that is. I cannot do the sum myself, I am such a poor adder—or ought I to say a poor addist? A poor adder sounds so poisonous and serpenty, doesn't it?"
But Paul would not laugh. "Won't you listen to me?" he asked.
"I suppose I have no alternative, as you have paid the penny for my chair, and I am partaking of your hospitality for the time being. But it really is a pity to use up such a lovely afternoon in speaking seriously; serious speaking—like bagatelle—ought to be reserved as an amusement for wet days."
"I really want to speak to you," persisted Paul, "I am not joking."
"My dear sir, I never for a moment imagined you were. Your expression just now would grace a mute at a funeral. And yet you take the trouble to inform me that you are not joking. You might as well have taken the trouble to inform me that you were not swimming, or painting, or driving a cab."
"It really isn't kind of you to go on like this, Miss Carnaby."
"And it really isn't kind of you to spoil such a lovely afternoon by speaking seriously."
Paul did not answer, so Isabel rattled on: "Now you are sulking, and if there is one thing I hate more than another it is a sulky temper. I'd rather have a squint than a sulky temper any day. Besides, dark men should never look sulky, it isn't becoming to them; it gives a lurid, thundery sort of expression to their faces."
Paul still remained silent, but Isabel did not dare to do so for a moment. "Isn't it a jolly afternoon?" she continued; "and these gardens look perfectly lovely. But I hope it isn't going to be too hot for the Wallingfords' ball next week. I can't bear a hot ball-room; your face gets so red, and your fringe goes out of curl, and altogether you look like one of Turner's sunsets in the National Gallery. At least I do, and I can't bear to feel I'm looking like a sunset. Why don't you smile when a lady talks to you? It is positively refrigerating to talk to a man with an expression like yours. Why don't you smile like a little gentleman, as the nursemaids around us would say?"