“Oh come now!” he objected. “Nymphs in my day were not so conventional!”
“So I shall leave you,” she continued, unheeding and turning away.
“Then I shall go with you.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” she cried.
“Why not? Really, Miss Clytie, I am fairly respectable and I know of no reason why you shouldn’t be seen in my company. I have never done murder and never stolen less than a million dollars at a time. To be sure, I hope to become a practising attorney in the course of a year or so, but as yet my honor is unsullied.”
She hesitated, her eyes turned in the direction of the house.
“Besides,” he added hastily, “I was going to tell you what I know about you.”
“Then,” she answered reluctantly, “I’ll stay—a minute.”
“Thank you. And shall we be comfortable during that minute? ‘Come, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings.’”