rly, and she furthermore possessed a smile that could have found
its way anywhere alone, and yet was rendered twice wise in the business
of hearts by two attendant dimples, to the end that the combination was
powerful enough to slowly smooth out some of the deepest lines of anger
in the face before her, and to vastly ameliorate its generally offended
air.
From the evidently pardoned Irish girl the caller turned his somewhat
softened gaze towards the young American, and then, and then only, it
appeared that a fresh storm-centre had gathered force unto itself in
that one small salon, and that it was now Rosina who had decided to
exhibit _her_ temper, beginning by saying, with a very haughty
coolness:
"It's nice of mademoiselle to try and make a joke out of all this, but
she knows that I never thought for a minute of going anywhere except
where she might chance to be. And as to you, monsieur, I cannot see how
you could have expected or demanded that I should pay any attention
whatever to your wishes. You told me last night that we might never meet
again--"
"And that could have truthed itself by chance," he interrupted eagerly.
"--And I believed you, and you know it," she finished, not noticing his
interpolation.
He stood still, looking straight at her, and when she was altogether
silent he stepped forward and raised her hand within his own.
"Does one meet a real friendship on Saturday to let it go from him for
always after Monday?" he asked her, speaking with a simple dignity that
suddenly swept the atmosphere free from clouds and storms.
Molly crossed the room hastily.
"I hear madame calling," she explained.
Rosina knew that madame was down a corridor well around the corner, and
that she was not in the habit of calling for anything or anybody, but
she felt no desire to cover her friend with shame by forcing her to
admit that she was lying. Indeed, just at that particular moment
Molly's absence appeared to be a very desirable quota in the general
scheme of things. So the girl went away and stayed away--being wise in
her views as to life and love affairs.
When they were alone Von Ibn flung himself into an arm-chair and
stretched forth his hand almost as if to command her approach to his
side. She stood still, but she could feel her color rising and was
desperately annoyed that it should be so.
"You are not angry that I be here?" he asked.
She drew a quick little breath and then turned to seat hers
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