"Madam, pray let me go."
"No, sir! my finger is twisted in your buttonhole,—if you pull yourself away I expect you'll break it, so pray don't pull; naturally, I detest pain. And I have much to talk about."
"As you will, madam," said Barnabas, frowning.
"First, tell me—you're quite handsome when you frown,—first, sir, why weren't you formally presented to me with the other guests?"
"Because I'm not a guest, madam."
"Sir—explain yourself."
"I mean that I came—over the wall, madam."
"The wall! Climbed over?"
"Yes, madam!"
"Dear heaven! The monstrous audacity of the man! You came to see
Cleone, of course?"