"No, you were brave enough--among the potatoes."
"You _are_ beautiful!"
"I am hungry."
"You are the most beautiful girl--"
"I want something to eat."
"--I ever saw! Do you think it possible for a man to fall in love at
first sight?"
"Oh, nothing is impossible on Tom Fool's night. Positive, fool;
comparative, fooler; superlative, foolest. You are marching on with
your degrees, Mr. Comstalk."
"You might call me Dicky," I said in an aggrieved tone.
"Dicky? Never! I should always be thinking of paper collars."
"I wish _I_ were witty like that!"
She snuggled down beneath the robes.
An artist's model, thought I. Never in this world. I now understood
the drift of her uncle's remark about her earning capacity. The Alice
Hawthorne miniatures brought fabulous prices. And here I was, sitting
so close to her that our shoulders touched: and she a girl who knew
intimately emperors and princesses and dukes, not to mention the
worldly-rich. I admit that for a moment I was touched with awe. And
it was beginning to get serious. This girl interested me marvelously.
I summoned up all my courage.
"Are--are you married?"
"No-o."
"Nor engaged to be married?"
"No-o. But you mustn't ask all these questions.
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