Nora sniffed. "I should think you might of knowed it," said she.
"I d-d-don't b-b-blame you fer laughin', M-M-Miss M-M-M-Markley," said
Sam miserably.
"What at?" demanded Nora fiercely.
"At m-m-my air. I know it's funny, cut off, that way. But I c-c-can't help it. It's gone."
"I didn't," exclaimed Nora hotly, her face flushing. "Your ears is all right. I was laughin' at seein' you move 'em. I beg your pardon. I didn't know anybody could, that way, you know. I'm—I'm sorry."
A great light broke over Sam. A vast dam crashed free. His soul rushed forth in one mad wave.
"M-M-Miss M-M-Markley—Miss—Nory!" he exclaimed, whirling about and facing her, "d-d-d-do y-y-you l-l-like to s-s-see me work my airs?"
"Yes, it's funny," admitted Nora, on the point of another outbreak in spite of herself.
This amiability was an undreamed thing, yet Sam saw his advantage. He squared himself about, and, looking solemnly and earnestly in Nora's face, he pulled first his right and then his left ear forward until the members stood nearly at right angles to his head.
After all, the ludicrous is but the unexpected. Many laugh who see an old woman fall upon the slippery pavement. This new spectacle was the absolutely undreamed-of to Nora, who was no scientist. Her laughter was irrepressible. In a trice the precedents of years were gone. Nora felt the empire of her dignity slipping away, but none the less could not repress her mirth. And more than this; as she gazed into the honest, blue-eyed face before her she felt a lessening of her desire to retain her icy pedestal, and she struggled the less against her laughter. Indeed, with a sudden fright, she found her laughter growing nervous. She, the head waitress, was perturbed, alarmed!