“Why—may I sit with you?” he begged in beautiful humility.
“Thee is alone?”
It escaped out of her heart of hearts.
Rem had the misfortune to laugh.
“Oh, that was the cause of your anger!”
“That thee was alone—yes,” she countered with tremendous aplomb. “I am very sorry—for my anger.”
She made the room for him at her side he had begged for.
“Your anger was justified,” said Rem, happily. “No one has any business to be alone in a thing like this—and—therefore—I am going to tempt—you—”
“I feel like a little brown sparrow among you all,” she said with discontent, for the car was crowded with the guests of the Masque.
“Do you suspect how many of these ladies would like to be this little brown sparrow?”