“Good-bye!” and in a moment he was gone.
“Kitty, come here!”
She threw open the door, and the girl appeared, blowing bubbles.
“There! that’s Coutell!” and it broke. “That’s Gray!” and it broke. “That’s Emory!—and it breaks on your shoulder!” Again the laugh, rippling through the room with bell-like music.
“Pshaw! listen to me. That man kissed me!”
“Ah! Did he hug you too?” and Kitty shook her mane and shrugged her shoulders.
“No!”
“Then he must have been intoxicated!” and the little woman hummed a tune, as she clicked time with an empty glass that stood on the table.
Clovis took up a bottle of red wine and filled one of the glasses.
“Goodness! it looks like blood!” cried Kitty.