"Aye, and willingly, would I," he smartly replied.
"I should love to see it. I should scarce know mine own face."
She regarded the subject with ridicule, observing as she spoke the end of the sash with which her fingers had been fumbling.
"You shall see it as it is with no artful flattery to disfigure it. May I bring it in person? The post-rider's bag is too unworthy a messenger."
"Lud! I shall be unable to restrain my curiosity and await the carrier."
"Then I shall be the carrier."
"Nothing would afford me more pleasure."
Neither of the two spoke for a moment.
She wondered if she were imprudent. While she had not known this man before this evening, still she knew of him as the one who took part in the disturbance at the Coffee House.
He seemed unusually attentive to her, although not unpleasantly so, and innocently enough the question presented itself to her as to the import of his motives. He had sought no information nor did he disclose any concerning himself, for at no time did their conversation arise to any plane above the commonplace. Yet she was willing to see him again and to discover, if possible, the true state of his mind.