“Roar a little for me, please,” she said, laying down her unconcealed weapon.
“Impossible,” said the Northern Lion, “a city ordinance forbids unnecessary noise.”
“Nonsense!” interrupted the Southern Lion. “Who would not break a law to oblige a lady?”
“Let us compromise,” said the Northern Lion, “and give her our reproduction of an automobile horn.”
“No,” said the Southern Lion, “we will give her our automatic record of a Book-Advertisement; it is louder.”
Then Diana trembled, indeed. But she bravely continued smiling, and said: “Thank you a thousand times for doing it once! And now please tell me what kind of Lions you are.”
“Literary Lions,” was their prompt and unanimous reply.
“Ah,” she cried, clapping her hands with a charming gesture, “how glad I am to meet you! I have been in New York more than twenty years and never seen any one like you before! Come and sit beside me and talk.”
The Lions looked at each other rather sheepishly, and glanced up and down the street, as if fearing the approach of a city ordinance. But there was no one in sight except Diana, so they shook their literary locks into a becoming disorder and sat on the steps with her, purring gently.
“Now tell me,” she said, “who you are.”