We can't help being what we are, Countess. Flesh and blood
mortals, that's all. If a cat may look at a king, why may not I look
at a countess?"
She met his gaze, but not steadily. Her deep blue eyes were filled
with a vague wonder; she seemed to be searching for something in his
to explain the sudden embarrassment that had come over her.
"Ah, I do not understand you American men," she murmured, shaking her
head. "A king would have found as much pleasure in looking at Miss
Cameron as at a countess. Why shouldn't YOU?" A radiant smile lighted
her face. "The king would not think of reproving the cat. I see no
reason why you should not look at a poor little countess with
impunity."
"Do you think it would be possible for you to understand me any better
as Miss Cameron?" he asked bluntly.
"I think perhaps it would," she said, the smile fading.
"Then, I shall continue to look upon you as Miss Cameron, Countess. It
will make it easier for both of us."
"Yes," she said, a little sadly, "I am sure Miss Cameron would not be
half so dense as the Countess. She would understand perfectly. She has
grown to be a very discerning person, Mr. Barnes, notwithstanding her
extreme youth.
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