“That's rather my forte, I consider,” he replied.
“You are fortunate!” I cried. “I would that I had such an excuse for my gallantries!”
“Come now, mossoo, I'm an old boy, remember!” he protested, though he did not seem at all displeased by this innuendo.
“You are at the most dangerous age for a woman's peace of mind.”
“Tuts—nonsense!” said he. “Twenty years ago, I don't mind admitting—er—”
“I understand! And twenty years subsequent to that? Ah, General!”
He laughed good-humoredly. He admitted that for his years he was certainly as youthful as most men. He had become in an excellent temper both with himself and his guest, when suddenly our conversation was interrupted by a knocking at the door. He barely had time to open it when the dénouement arrived. In other words, Miss Unknown stepped into the room. Yet at the threshold she paused, for I could see that at the first glance she recognized me and knew not what to make of this remarkable coincidence.
As she stood there she made a picture that put into the shade anything a much greater artist than the General could have painted, with her deep, finely turned chin cast a little upward and her dark, glowing eyes looking half arrogantly, half doubtingly, round the room. I noted again the petulant, wilful expression in the small mouth and the indescribable, untamed air. As before, she was dressed in bright colors, that set her off as a heavy gold frame sets off a picture; only her color this time was a vivid shade of purple.
She paused but for a moment, and then she evidently made up her mind to treat me as a stranger, for she turned her glance indifferent to my host and asked, in an off-hand tone,
“Didn't you know I was coming this morning?”