"Oh, Mr. Roscoria, and you a schoolmaster!"
"And you, Miss Villiers, tell me, do you prefer the main chance, or me?"
"Alas! I am no lover of abstractions."
She came a little toward him as she said it, and he had her hand again.
"This dear hand—shall it be mine?"
No answer, save that propitious starlight in her eyes.
"Lyndis, one kiss, that I may know you are mortal."
"I daren't," she said, and gave him one. "If the admiral were to come round the corner—— I say no more."
She gave him a stephanotis from her hair to keep as her favor, and then whispered apprehensively: