"I certainly have," said she, with emphasis.
"You threw me a smile that was like a white rose," said he.
She laughed.
"I think I just distantly acknowledged your bow," she said.
"Well, some people's distant acknowledgments are like white roses," said he. "I hope, at least, you remember what a glorious night it was, and how the nightingales were singing?"
"Yes," said she. "I remember that."
"I have a fancy," he declared, "that it will be a more glorious night still to-night, and that the nightingales will sing better than they have ever sung before."
Maria Dolores did not speak.
"Do you happen," John asked, after a long silence, while they gazed at the deepening colours in the west, "do you happen to possess such a thing as a copy of the Almanach de Gotha?"
"Yes," said she.