I want to
be shown round. Do you remember dining with me one night at the
Ambassador's? It was very hot, even for Paris, and we drove
afterwards in the Bois. Ask me to dine with you here, won't you?
I have never quite forgotten the last time."
Mr. Sabin laughed softly, but with undisguised mirth.
"Come," he said, "this is an excellent start. You are to play the
Circe up to date, and I am to be beguiled. How ought I to answer
you? I do remember the Ambassador's, and I do remember driving
down the Bois in your victoria, and holding--I believe I am right
--your hand. You have no right to disturb those charming memories
by attempting to turn them into bathos."
She blew out a little cloud of tobacco smoke, and watched it
thoughtfully.
"Ah!" she remarked. "I wonder who is better at that, you or I?
I may not be exactly a sentimental person, but you--you are a
flint."
"On the contrary," Mr. Sabin assured her earnestly, "I am very
much in love with my wife."
"Dear me!" she exclaimed. "You carry originality to quixoticism.
I have met several men before in my life whom I have suspected of
such a thing, but I never heard any one confess it. This little
domestic contretemps is then, I presume, disagreeable to you!"
"To the last degree," Mr. Sabin asserted. "So much so that I
leave for England by the Campania.
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