“Well, come and see some of my photographs in my den.”
“What! Enter the throne-room!” in mock amaze.
“Yes; why not?”
“Oh no ‘why not’ at all. I’m simply dying to go. I have been, ever since I can remember.—I’m wild with curiosity to know what kind of things an animal of your lofty nature collects in its den,” and she followed him eagerly down a long passage, and through a little conservatory into the large, airy room known as Lawrence’s den.
When he had switched on the electric light, her eyes grew wide with interest and admiration.
“Well! if this isn’t just all right,” she exclaimed. “How daddy would love it!”
“It’s somewhat warlike,” glancing at his swords and weapons, “so you ought to feel at home.”
“I?—Why?” in surprise.
“Because you are always trying to quarrel with me.”
“Nonsense! I only tell you a few home truths for your good.”