She withdrew her hand and held up a warning finger—though the smile still lingered undimmed—then she nodded ever so slightly.
"My dear Stephanie, I'll forgive you anything when you look at me like that!" he breathed.
"I'm always ready to look at you like that, if you won't find fault with me when I've been abominable," she whispered.—"No, stay where you are—you forget we're on the Club-house piazza."
He made a motion of resignation and sank back in his chair.
"I should not have said it if we hadn't been there—and broad day besides," she observed.
He smiled his answer.
"Moreover, Montague, you know that all such little demonstrations are strictly forbidden," she warned.
"When will they be permitted?" he demanded, leaning close to her.
"Who knows?" she answered. "Who can read the future—such a future as mine, my friend."
"I will essay it," he replied.