"But—incredible!" she cried. "I can't believe you ..."
Facing her, he lifted his scarlet visor, meeting her stare with his wistful and diffident smile.
Facing her, he lifted his scarlet visor.
"You see," he said, readjusting the mask.
"But—what does this mean?"
"Do you remember our talk on the way home after Kismet—four hours or several years ago: which is it?"
"I remember we talked ..."
"And I—clumsily enough, Heaven knows!—told you that I'd go far for one who'd been kind and tolerant to me, if she were in trouble and could use my poor services?"
"I remember—yes."