Charlie was puzzled—sorely puzzled. He tried to think, but to his knowledge he had never previously set eyes upon the dark-haired little witch before in all his life.
“I—well I really don’t recollect. You’ve asked me a riddle, and I’ve given it up.”
“But think. Have you never seen me before?”
“In London?”
“No; somewhere else—a long way from here.”
He shook his head. She was a complete enigma this girl not yet out of her teens.
“I must apologise to you, but I do not recollect,” he said. “If you refuse to tell me who you are, you can surely give me your Christian name.”
“Why?”
“Well, because—”
“Because of your natural curiosity!” she declared. “Men are always curious. They always want to get at hard facts. Half the romance of life is taken away by their desire to go straight to the truth of things. Women are fond of a little imagination.”