"I'm in love with all other women," he laughed. "All—that is—except yourself. It must be a surprise to one who counts her conquests daily to discover that, of all the women in the world, you are the only female my shrinking susceptibilities are proof against."
Her eyes were turned on him in wide amazement, eyes now quite violent and child-like.
"I never thought of that, Philidor. It is curious that I never thought of that. It isn't very flattering to me, is it?"
"No—especially as the opportunities for indulgence in my favorite pursuit are so very obvious."
She laughed but looked away. He had provided a sauce for the gander which made him seem anything but a goose.
"But, of course, you—you couldn't take advantage of them—under the circumstances," she remarked.
He shook his head, doggedly whimsical. "One never can tell just how long one's defensive armor may hold out. I'm sure my brows are beetling much less than usual. In fact, this morning in spite of severe provocation they don't seem to be beetling at all. And as for my air of indifference—I challenge you to discover it. If these are forbidding symptoms, Hermia, take warning while there's time."
"Oh, I'm not in the least alarmed," she said demurely.
But she let him alone after that. They followed slowly in the trail of the roulotte. Whether because of Clarissa's habitual drowsiness or their own interest in other matters, the shaggy horse had gone faster than they, and when presently they came to a long stretch of straight road their hosts of the night had disappeared.
"Do you know where we're going?" asked Hermia then.