“In the bazaars. We rode in a palanquin, and drove to the Sweet Waters of Europe, danced at the Russian Legation,—where she was irresistible.”
“Your eyes!” said Mrs. Denby, with severe sarcasm.
“One day her father appeared. She counted out three louis—”
“And five francs sixty centimes,” said Mrs. Denby.
“‘That isn’t all,’ said I.
“‘Why, let me see,’ she began.
“‘It isn’t all,’ said I. ‘There’s my heart.’”
“It was a very silly speech—not at all original,” said Mrs. Denby. “I should think you would be ashamed to repeat it—before visitors. But, Mr. Pemberton, you haven’t told me whether you take sugar?”
“Sugar, thanks,” said I. “That’s a good story. It reminds me of an episode in Hunter’s novel—”
“This is a better story,” said Denby.