“May I—may I——” she faltered, presently.
“You may do anything!” replied Chauvet, soothingly. “You may even box my ears, if it will relieve your feelings!”
She laughed, and looked up at him. It was a kind, rugged, clever face she saw—plain, but shrewd, and though marked like a map with lines of thought and care, not without character and impressiveness.
“I was rude to you the first night we met!” she said, irrelevantly.
“So was I to you,” he responded. “And you got the better of me. That’s probably why I like you!”
She hesitated again. Then:
“May I wait——”
“Of course!” he said. “Any time! Not too long—I want to settle it before I die!”
“Will it do when I have finished my visit to Madame Dimitrius?” she asked. “She wishes me to stay with her for some months—she likes my company——”
“I should think she does!” interposed Chauvet. “So should I!”