“No; you are lying on my watch-chain. That’s right! Sing me something.”
“What shall I sing about?”
“About love!”
“First earn it, you rogue!”
Then all was quiet for a while. Presently Katie began to warble, softly,
“‘The nightingale on the lilac-bush
Sang night’s soft hours away;
I heard a crash, a gentle push,
My window-pane gave way!
“‘I ran to see the cause in haste,
At night’s soft witching hour,
And there I found a ladder placed—
A man stood by my bower.
La, la, la!’”
“Go on singing!”
“Oh no, it really is not proper.”
“Why, then, did you begin it?”
She giggled and was silent.