She must have seen righteous disapprobation on my face, for she came running up to me.
“You see, I’ve made Miss Carlotta’s acquaintance,” said Pasquale.
“So I perceive,” said I.
“Stenson told me you wanted me to come to the drawing-room in my red slippers,” said Carlotta.
“I am afraid Stenson must have misdelivered my message,” said I.
“Then you do not want me at all, and I must go away?”
Oh, those eyes! I am growing so tired of them. I hesitated, and was lost.
“Please let me stay and talk to Pasquale.”
“Mr. Pasquale,” I corrected.
She echoed my words with a cooing laugh, and taking my consent for granted, curled herself up in a corner of the sofa. I resumed my seat with a sigh. It would have been boorish to turn her out.