Carter,"
remarked Dolly with some pathos.
I did not care to enter upon that discussion, and a pause
followed. Then Dolly, in a timid manner, asked me--
"Do you remember the dreadful thing that happened the same
evening?"
"That chances to remain in my memory," I admitted.
"I've always thought it kind of you never to speak of it," said
she.
"It is best forgotten," said I, smiling.
"We should have said the same about anybody," protested Dolly.
"Certainly. We were only trying to be smart," said I.
"And it was horribly unjust."
"I quite agree with you, Lady Mickleham."
"Besides, I didn't know anything about him then. He had only
arrived that day, you see."
"Really we were not to blame," I urged.
"Oh, but doesn't it seem funny?"
"A strange whirligig, no doubt," I mused.
There was a pause. Then the faintest of smiles appeared on
Dolly's face.
"He shouldn't have worn such clothes," she said, as though in
self defense. "Anybody would have looked absurd in them."
"It was all the clothes," I agreed. "Besides, when a man doesn't
know a place, he always moons about and looks--"
"Yes. Rather awkward, doesn't he, Mr. Carter?"
"And the mere fact of his looking at you--"
"At us, please.
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