This time it was I who laughed, for he had been hit very fairly.
“Mademoiselle,” said he, “I did not for a moment think it could have been a love match.”
Mademoiselle turned away and laughed.
“You are the very strangest man I have ever seen,” she said.
“Shall I give you my notion of a love match, Mademoiselle?” said Nick.
“I should think you might be well versed in the subject, Monsieur,” she answered, speaking to the tree, “but here is scarcely the time and place.” She wound up her sewing, and faced him. “I must really leave you,” she said.
He took a step towards her and stood looking down into her face. Her eyes dropped.
“And am I never to see you again?” he asked.
“Monsieur!” she cried softly, “I do not know who you are.” She made him a courtesy, took a few steps in the opposite path, and turned. “That depends upon your ingenuity,” she added; “you seem to have no lack of it, Monsieur.”
Nick was transported.