She smiled. "It never could do that," she answered. "But won't you sit beside me, now?"
"Yes, I suppose so," I said reluctantly. "Only, I'm nearer you as I am."
Then I took my chair, drawing it a trifle in the rear, so, being obliged to lean forward, I would be closer to her and could speak softly in her ear.
"You're very bold, Armand; you are always doing things so publicly," she said.
"It was an accident—at first."
"And afterward, sir?"
"Afterward, I was powerless."
"My arm would not believe you."
"Powerless to remove my hand, I mean."
"Powerlessness, with you, has queer manifestations," she said.