"What is it?" she demanded.
"Your hair," with a simplicity which silenced her. "You have the most beautiful hair I have ever seen."
"Thank you. And yet, for all you know, it may be a fine wig."
"If it is, I shall never be sure of anything again. Am I in prosaic New York? Have you not, by some carpet-magic, transported me to old Europe? If a dozen conspirators came in in cowls to render me the oath, I should not be at all surprised."
"There is no magic; only a mask."
"And there is no way of seeing behind that?"
"None, absolutely none. I am told that you are a gentleman; so I am confident that you will not stoop to use force."
"Only the force of eloquence, if ever I may lay claim to that again."
"You are beginning well. For I tell you, Mr. Hillard, I shall expect but the most brilliant wit from you to-night. As for me, I shall only interpolate occasionally. Now, begin."
"I am not used to dancing without the pole."