“You should eat as well,” she insisted, taking charge of him as if she had every right to do so.
“All shall be as you say, now that I have the happiness of seeing you sitting opposite me, but don’t be surprised if I show a most unappreciative appetite.”
“What is the matter?” she asked breathlessly. “You certainly look very ill.”
“I have been drugged and robbed,” he replied, lowering his voice. “I imagine I came to close quarters with death itself. I have spent a night in Hades, and this morning am barely able to stagger; but the sight of you, Princess—Ah, well, I feel once more that I belong to the land of the living!”
“Please do not call me Princess,” said the girl, looking down at the tablecloth.
“Then what am I to call you, Princess?”
“My name is Jennie Baxter,” she said in a low voice.
“Miss Jennie Baxter?” he asked eagerly, with emphasis on the first word.
“Miss Jennie Baxter,” she answered, still not looking up at him.
He leaned back in his chair and said,—