“Oh, ‘Roses of Shiraz!’” sighed Maurice comically, “what would your admirers say if they heard such vers de société?”
“Improvisation is hardly serious work!” retorted Crispin coolly, drinking his wine.
“And your sentiments!” cried Caliphronas in mock horror. “You have made Helen prim.”
“’Tis in keeping with this virtuous century.”
“For my part,” said Helena of Melnos playfully, “I think your modern reading of the story is charming. Crispin, I appoint you my poet laureate.”
“And my wages?”
“A wreath of artificial laurels, for, indeed, your song is but worthy of such.”
“Cruel! And I always thought you so soft-hearted.”
“Never judge by outward appearances,” said Helena, rising from her seat. “I am as hard-hearted as papa—on occasions.”
“I hope not on all occasions?” observed Caliphronas, with emphasis.