The girl looked him over leisurely; at his ordinary, neat dress
and his features distinguished by nothing particular in the way of
expression.
"You may sit down, if you like," she said, in a full, deliberate
contralto. "Really, I would like to have you do so. The light is too
bad for reading. I would prefer to talk."
The vassal of Luck slid upon the seat by her side with complaisance.
"Do you know," he said, speaking the formula with which park chairmen
open their meetings, "that you are quite the stunningest girl I have
seen in a long time? I had my eye on you yesterday. Didn't know
somebody was bowled over by those pretty lamps of yours, did you,
honeysuckle?"
"Whoever you are," said the girl, in icy tones, "you must remember
that I am a lady. I will excuse the remark you have just made because
the mistake was, doubtless, not an unnatural one--in your circle. I
asked you to sit down; if the invitation must constitute me your
honeysuckle, consider it withdrawn."
"I earnestly beg your pardon," pleaded the young ran. His expression
of satisfaction had changed to one of penitence and humility. "It was
my fault, you know--I mean, there are girls in parks, you know--that
is, of course, you don't know, but--"
"Abandon the subject, if you please. Of course I know. Now, tell me
about these people passing and crowding, each way, along these paths.
Where are they going? Why do they hurry so? Are they happy?"
The young man had promptly abandoned his air of coquetry.
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