"That is sheer nonsense," she said with decision. "I'll bet you anything you like."
"What stakes?"
"Why there's nothing to bet except the usual, is there?"
"You mean flowers, gloves, stockings, bon-bons?"
"Yes."
The Harlequin, smiling at her askance, drew from the hilt of his lathe-sword a fresh cigarette, lighted it, looked across at the level chandelier, and sent a ring of smoke toward the twinkling wilderness of prisms hanging in mid-air.
"Let's be original or perish," he said. "I'll bet you a day out of my life against a day out of yours that I discover who you are in ten minutes."
"I won't accept such a silly wager! What would you do with me for a day?"
The Harlequin bent his masked head. Over his body the lozenges of scarlet and gold slid crinkling as though with suppressed and serpentine mirth.
"What are you laughing at?" she demanded half vexed, half amused.