“How did I look at them?”
“As if you wanted to eat them, and one never wants to eat one's friends.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don't know. They wouldn't agree with one.”
Jeff laughed, and he now took fuller note of the slender girl who stood before him, and swayed a little backward, in a graceful curve. He saw that she had a dull, thick complexion, with liquid eyes, set wide apart and slanted upward slightly, and a nose that was deflected inward from the straight line; but her mouth was beautiful and vividly red like a crimson blossom.
“Couldn't you find me some place to sit down, Mr. Durgin?” she asked.
He had it on his tongue to say, “Well, not unless you want to sit down on some enemy,” but he did not venture this: when it comes to daring of that sort, the boldest man is commonly a little behind a timid woman.
Several of the fellows had clubbed their rooms, and lent them to the man who was giving the tea; he used one of the apartments for a cloak-room, and he meant the other for the social overflow from his own. But people always prefer to remain dammed-up together in the room where they are received, and Miss Lynde looked between the neighboring heads, and over the neighboring shoulders, and saw the borrowed apartment quite empty. At the moment of this discovery the host came fighting his way up to make sure that Jeff had been provided for in the way of introductions. He promptly introduced him to Miss Lynde. She said: “Oh, that's been done! Can't you think of something new?” Jeff liked the style of this. “I don't mind it, but I'm afraid Mr. Durgin must find it monotonous.”
“Oh, well, do something original yourself, then, Miss Lynde!” said the host. “Start a movement for that room across the passage; that's mine, too, for the occasion; and save some of these people's lives. It's suffocating in here.”
“I don't mind saving Mr. Durgin's,” said the girl, “if he wants it saved.”