“A mere bagatelle, as father says,” said this saucy Queensland maiden, with an arch look at her companion. But Archie did not look arch as he put the next question.
“Which do you mean is the bagatelle, Etheldene, my life, or the saving of it?”
“Yes, you may call me Etheldene—father’s friends do—but don’t, please, call me child again.”
“I beg your pardon, Etheldene.”
“It is granted, sir.”
“But now you haven’t answered my question.”
“What was it? I’m so stupid!”
“Which did you mean was the bagatelle—my life, or the saving of it?”
“Oh, both!”
“Thank you.”