Somehow her hand slid comfortably into his and she guided him through the hall. The touch of her hand was ecstasy.
"There was a time when you used to kiss my hand," she said.
With the forgotten gallantry of olden times suddenly returned, he bent his head and kissed the hand in his, to hide his dimming eyes!
They then entered the dining-room. Covers had been laid for six. There was a candle at each plate, but upon four of the plates rested books! The poet looked at the girl: ah, the brave and merry eyes that met his!
"Permit me, Mr. Williard," she said, making a courtesy, "to introduce you to the celebrities. Yonder is Mr. Thackeray, and next to him is Mr. Dickens; on the opposite side are MM. de Balzac and Dumas. Behold Mr. Esmond and Mr. Copperfield, the kindly Cousin Pons and the brave D'Artagnan! Ah, John, I was so afraid that you might invent an excuse that I took to this little subterfuge. Do you forgive me?"
"I would have come anyway."
"Why?"
"Because."
"That is a woman's answer."
"Well, because I wanted to see you."