"With pleasure. Good morning."
Pembroke and I passed down the broad stairs. On the street we walked a block or so in silence.
Finally Pembroke said: "What the deuce made you step on my foot? And why does she not want me to know that she was in Vienna last winter?"
"Because," said I, "Miss Landors never was in Vienna."
"But, man, my eyes!"
"I do not care anything about your eyes."
"What makes you so positive?"
"Knowledge."
"Do you love her?" bluntly.
"No."