"Yes. But you won't."
"How do you know?"
"I know—from the expression of your mouth, perhaps. You are too pretty, too popular to remember a poor Harlequin."
"But you never have seen my face? Have you?"
"No."
"Then why do you continually say that I am pretty?"
"I can divine what you must be."
"Then—how—why did you refrain from—" She laughed lightly, and looked up at him, mockingly. "Really, Harlequin, you are funny. Do you realise it?"
She laughed again and the slight flush came back into her cheeks.
"But you're nice, anyway.... Perhaps if you had seen my face you might have let me go unkissed all the quicker.... Masks cover horrible surprises.... And, then again, if you had seen it, perhaps you might never have let me go at all!" she added, audaciously.