“But you did not give him time to say anything. You never do.”
“Nobody ever has anything to say that is worth listening to. Poh, Poh, Poh! The silliness of men and the weariness of life! Tell the fool he can come to-morrow, and I’ll undertake not to eat him.”
“He will be delighted to receive such satisfactory, and, on the whole, rather necessary reassurance. His nature is so knightly that upon no consideration, even the fear of offering himself as a meal, would he dream of refusing to obey a lady’s mandate. And after his adventure of yesterday, it is natural to suppose that he would view compliance to-morrow with considerable trepidation of the possible results. By the way, Photini, I am going to Athens in the morning.”
He looked at her tranquilly, quite prepared for an explosion. She flung away her cigarette, glanced at him just as serenely, and said:—
“So! Then I will follow you.”
“That is kinder than anything I had dared to hope from you, Photini,” said Agiropoulos, gracefully. “Then you care for me enough to disturb yourself on my account.”
The Natzelhuber lighted another cigarette, puffed silently awhile, and fixed her lover with her steady imperturbable gaze.
“Don’t flatter yourself, my dear fellow! I never disturb myself for any one, but I am sick of Vienna.”
“It strikes me, my excellent friend, you are sick of most places in an incredibly short space of time,” said Agiropoulos, sarcastically, nettled by the coolness, of which he wanted a monopoly.
“Possibly.”