"My dear young lady, I—"
"My uncle has a queer conception of the proprieties. He may think that you come to see me." A radiant smile leaped into her face, transforming its strange sombreness into absolutely impish mirth.
"Well, hang it all, he can't object to that, can he? Besides, I never buy without haggling," he expostulated, suddenly exhilarated, he knew not why.
"Don't come in here unless you expect to buy," she said, serious in an instant. "It isn't the custom in Edelweiss. Young men may chat with shopgirls all the world over—but in Edelweiss, no—unless they come to pay most honourable court to them. My uncle would not understand."
"I take it, however, that you would understand," he said boldly.
"I have lived in Vienna, in Paris and in London. But now I am living in Edelweiss. I have not been a shopgirl always."
"I can believe that. My deductions are justified."
"Pray forgive me for offering this bit of advice. A word to the wise. My uncle would close the door in your face if—if he thought—"
"I see. Well, I'll buy the blooming sword. Anyhow, that's what I came in for."
"No. You came in because I smiled at you from the window upstairs. It is my sitting-room."