"But it's a duty I owe to myself," he insisted gravely. "Besides, it is not impossible that you may hear the tale from other lips; and I rather prefer to tell it myself."
"But always remember that I haven't asked you."
"Are you afraid to hear it?"
"No. What I am trying to convince you with is the fact that I trust you, and that I give you my friendship without reservations."
He laid his hand on hers, strongly. "God bless you for that!"
She liked him because there was lacking in his words and tones that element of flattery so distasteful to her. Men generally entertain the fallacy that a woman demands homage, first to her physical appearance, next to her taste in gowns, and finally to her intellect, when in the majority of cases it is the other way around. Elsa knew that she was beautiful, but it no longer interested her to hear men state the fact, knowing as she did that it was simply to win her good will.
"Would you like to sit next to me at the table?"
"May I?" eagerly.
"I'll have Martha change her chair for yours. Do you speak Italian?"
"Enough for ordinary conversation. It is a long time since I have spoken the tongue."