“You mustn’t hold my hand any more.”
“Do you mean to withdraw your apology?”
“N—no; but it doesn’t follow that——”
“Oh, yes, it does. Besides, when a man receives such a delicate, refined, graceful, exquisite apology as this,”—here he lifted the hand, looked at it critically, and bestowed another kiss upon it,—“he would be a fool not to make the most of it.”
“Ah, I’m afraid you’re dangerous. You are well named—Freeman!”
“My name is Harvey: won’t you call me by it?”
“Oh, I can’t!”
“Try! Would it make it easier if I were to call you by yours?”
“Mine is Miss Parsloe.”
“Pooh! How can that be your name which you are going to change so soon? When I look at you, I see your name; when I think of you, I say it to myself,—Grace!”