“How lonely!” exclaimed the girl.
“Perhaps it may be. Yet in solitude one hears and sees strange things. I love solitude.”
“Really?”
“I do; nevertheless, I own ’twould be better in some respects not to dwell so much by myself. Therefore I give you leave to come here whenever you please; yes, come and sweep and rummage and turn things topsy-turvy, if you like.”
At this Marguerite burst into a laugh.
“Ha! probably you think my apartment is already topsy-turvy? Well, it only seems so to you; to my eye there is perfect order in all this chaos.”
“And the buttons, sir, in yonder cigar-box—”
Marguerite did not end the phrase; she hoped he would understand her, and Abel did.
“Humph! you have discovered those buttons, eh? Well, they came off my clothes. And here let me observe, my young friend, the next important thing to invent is a suit of clothes without any buttons.”
“Well, until you invent one, please allow me to sew those buttons on again. Will you?”