"I was also," he reminded her, "one night in your rooms at the
Milan Court when your husband--"
She stopped him with an imperative gesture.
"Spare me, please," she begged. "Those were such terrible days
--so dull, too! I remember that you were quite one of the
brightest spots. You were absolutely different from every one I
had ever met before, and you interested me immensely."
She looked at him and slowly shook her head.
"You look very nice," she said. "Your clothes fit you and you
are most becomingly tanned, but you don't look half so awkward
and so adorable."
"I am sorry," he replied, shortly.
"And you came to see me!" she went on. "That was really nice of
you. You were quite fond of me, once, you know. Tell me, has it
lasted?"
"That is exactly what I came to find out," he answered
deliberately. "So far, I am inclined to think that it has not
lasted."
She made a little wry face and drew his arm through hers.
"Come and sit down and tell me why," she insisted. "Be honest,
now. Is it because you think I am looking older?"
"I have thought of you for many hours a day for months,"
Tavernake said, slowly, "and I never imagined you so beautiful as
you seem now."
She clapped her hands.
"And yon mean it, too!" she exclaimed. "There is just the same
delightfully convincing note in your tone. I am sure that you
mean it. Please go on adoring me, Mr. Tavernake. I have no one
who interests me at all just now.
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