“Oh, no!” said the other; “we don’t fling aside full-blown roses, and there are no buds here!”
“I understand,” said the actress, and went on dreaming, while Kitty sang an old song—“Did they Tell Thee I was Dead, Katy Darling?”
Having finished the garland, she rose, and, opening a drawer, took from it some gilt letters.
“I might as well fix it all now,” she said; “there won’t be time to-morrow.”
She pushed a chair against the wall and began to tack the letters on the paper. She had completed the name “Cliquot” in gold and was busy arranging the wreath in the shape of a horse-shoe around it when a voice cried:
“Come down! come down! A most dangerous position! I really must hold you, for I think you are growing giddy!” and she felt two hands clasp her waist.
“Let go, Reginald! I don’t like that!”
“But I do!”
Clovis looked up, angrily.
“Stop that child’s play!” she said. “You’re always at it!”