"You'll be sure to know me, anyway, next time you see me, eh?" she said, putting her head on one side.
Ware, still holding her hand, stood up. The napkin slid off his knee to the floor. Daisy, obeying a tidy feminine impulse, stooped over and with her free hand picked the doyley up and laid it on the table. Then she stood erect and bright, facing the baronet at about the level of his chin.
"Little woman," he said, his eyes shining down into hers, "you are jolly well right when you say I shan't forget you; and I want you to believe that I don't intend to forget you—in fact, haven't the slightest intention of forgetting you, or even trying to. Shall you keep on, do you think, in your present position?"
"I guess so," said Daisy, "I like the lady of the house."
"Very fine woman," said Sir William, "very fine, indeed.... Now, I shan't keep you out any longer, as it must be getting late." He relinquished her hand, with a little pat, and reached down his hat and cane.
Sir William walked back with Daisy as far as the Harrison gate. On the way, he said, squeezing the hand that lay within his arm, where he had drawn it as on the previous walk in the opposite direction, "now, you'll keep on being a straightforward and good little woman, won't you? You won't let the city spoil you, I mean—it has a tendency that way, you know."
Daisy smiled up. "Oh, I guess I can take care of myself," she said, "I've had to, all my life." Her companion chuckled at this.
"Might I enquire as to the duration of that immense period of time?" he said.
"You mean, how old am I?" Daisy paused, as they reached the gate, and gently freed her arm. It was as well, she had found in the case of most previous escorts, to be cleared for rapid retreat when the good-bye moment came. It might be as well, in this case too. Men were queer, at the good-bye moment.
"That's it," Sir William said, in reply to her paraphrase of his previous enquiry. He leaned on his cane, as only an Englishman can lean on a cane—almost as though it were a part of him—and, just as she was about to reply, interjected, "wait a bit, though. I believe I should like to have a guess at your age before you tell me. Jolly fun, guessing. Nineteen?"