“I confess it is a little puzzling,” said she; “perhaps it is because I am tired from travelling, and my brain refuses to work. But why in the name of all that is strange do you call him Mr. Allen?”
The Celebrity threw himself into the chair beside her and asked permission to light a cigarette.
“I am going to ask you the favor of respecting my incognito, Miss Thorn, as Crocker has done,” he said. “Crocker knew me in the East, too. I had not counted upon finding him at Asquith.”
Miss Thorn straightened herself and made a gesture of impatience.
“An incognito!” she cried. “But you have taken another man's name. And you already had his face and figure!”
I jumped.
“That is so,” he calmly returned; “the name was ready to hand, and so I took it. I don't imagine it will make any difference to him. It's only a whim of mine, and with me there's no accounting for a whim. I make it a point to gratify every one that strikes me. I confess to being eccentric, you know.”
“You must get an enormous amount of gratification out of this,” she said dryly. “What if the other man should happen along?”
“Scarcely at Asquith.”
“I have known stranger things to occur,” said she.