She was herself sensibly discountenanced
by his perturbation.
"Why do you ask that?" he demanded.
"Natural interest in a friend," she answered lightly, but with
growing wonder. "I think you'd be altogether irresistible if you
were a pirate or a smuggler or a revolutionary. The romantic
spirit could lurk so securely behind those gloomy soul-screens
that you wear. What do you keep back of them, O dark and shrouded
beetle man?"
"My eyes," he grunted.
"Basilisk eyes, I'm sure. And what behind the eyes?"
"My thoughts."
"You certainly keep them securely. No intruders allowed. But you
haven't answered my question. Have you ever murdered any one in
cold blood? Or are you a married man trifling with the affections
of poor little me?"
"You shall know all," he began, in the leisurely tone of one who
commences a long narrative. "My parents were honest, but poor. At
the age of three years and four months, a maternal uncle, who,
having been a proofreader of Abyssinian dialect stories for a
ladies' magazine, was considered a literary prophet, foretold that
I--"
"Help! Wait! Stop!--
"'Oh, skip your dear uncle!' the bellman exclaimed,
And impatiently tinkled his bell.
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