“The word ‘beautiful’ doesn’t flatter you. But I think I understand. However, if I’m not to call you that, what am I to do for a name? Can’t you trust me with some little old name?”
“My uncle calls me Billee, when he finds me amiable; Bill, when he is displeased, and William, when he is out of all patience. You can take them all three. You’ll need them later.”
“Miss Billee will do for me.”
“Billee, or nothing, sir!”
“All right. Now then, Billee, listen to me. You’ve been through this place?”
“Dozens of times. I suggested it because at this hour it is not frequented by—because it is apt to be uncrowded, and I wanted to be alone with you. Forgive me if I shock you.”
“Forgive you! Come, I know a place where few people will be passing. It is both public and private.”
“All right. Let’s go sit down and tell glad stories of live kings.”
“Good paraphrase. Where did you learn the original?”
“Oh, I read to an old lady friend a great deal. I’m learning lots of pretty things in books.” Lightly touching her arm, he guided her to a broad seat screened by a marble group at the far end of the hall.