II
She was the most exquisite creature in all the wide world; and here she was, within reach of my hungry arms!
"You?" she cried, stepping back, one hand at her throat and the other against the jamb of the door.
Dumb as ever was Lot's wife (after the turning-point in her career), I stood and stared and admired. A woman would instantly have noticed the beauty of her sables, but I was a man to whom such details were inconsequent.
"I did not expect ... that is, only the number of the apartment was given," she stammered. "I ..." Then her slender figure straightened, and with an effort she subdued the fright and dismay which had evidently seized her. "Have you Mr. Chittenden's hat?"
"Mr. Chittenden's hat?" I repeated, with a tingling in my throat similar to that when you hit your elbow smartly on a corner. "Mr. Chittenden's hat?"
"Yes; he is so thoughtless that I dared not trust him to search for it alone. Have you got it?"
Heavens! how my heart beat at the sight of this beautiful being, as she stood there, palpitating between shame and anxiety! She was beautiful; and I knew instantly that I loved her better than anything else on earth.
"Mr. Chittenden's hat," I continued, as lucid as a trained parrot and in tones not wholly dissimilar.
"Can't you say anything more than that?"—impatiently.