"Who is he?"
"His name," she said resolutely, "is George Z. Green. And I am running away from him.... And I am afraid you'll think it very odd when I tell you that although I am running away from him I do not know him, and I have never seen him."
"Wh-what is the matter with him?" inquired Green, with a sickly attempt at smiling.[236]
"He wants to marry me!" she exclaimed indignantly. "That is what is the matter with him."
"Are you sure?" he asked, astounded.
"Perfectly. And the oddest thing of all is that I do not think he has ever seen me—or ever even heard of me."
"But how can——"
"I'll tell you. I must tell you now, anyway. It began the evening before I left New York. I—I live alone—with a companion—having no parents. I gave a dinner dance the evening before I—I ran away;—there was music, too; professional dancers;—a crystal-gazing fortune teller—and a lot of people—loads of them."
She drew a short, quick breath, and shook her pretty head.
"Everybody's been talking about the Princess Zimbamzim this winter. So I had her there.... She—she is uncanny—positively terrifying. A dozen women were scared almost ill when they came out of her curtained corner.