“'Mademoiselle, I offer you a thousand apologies. I see now that if I had really met you before I could not possibly confuse your face with another's. Doubtless I ought to have been more cautious, but as you perhaps guess, I am a foreigner, and I do not understand the English customs in these matters.'
“She receives this speech with so much complaisance that I feel emboldened to continue.
“'I am also solitary, and meeting with a face I thought I knew seemed providential. Do you grant me your pardon?'
“She gives a little laugh that is more than half friendly.
“'Of course—if it was a mistake.'
“'Such a pleasant mistake that I should like to continue in error,' I reply.
“But at this she draws back, and her expression changes a little. It does not become altogether hostile, but it undoubtedly changes.
“'May I ask you a favor?' I say, quickly, and with a modest air. 'I was looking for a friend and have become lost in this Temple. Can you tell me where number thirty-four is?'
“'Yes,' she replies, with a look that penetrates, and, I think, rather enjoys, this simple ruse, 'it is next to number thirty-three.' And with that she turns to go, so abruptly that I cannot help suspecting she also desires to hide a smile.
“But observing that I, too, shall not waste more time here, I also turn, and as she does not actually order me away, I walk by her side, studying her afresh from the corner of my eye. She is of middle height, or perhaps an inch above it; she walks with a peculiar swing that seems to say, 'I do not care one damn for anybody,' and the expression of her eyes and mouth bear out this sentiment.”