Part 6 (1/2)
”Oh, Mudie's have sent me down an absolutely abominable selection.
With”--a twinkle escaped from the corner of her eye--”with the exception of that one of yours.”
”I won't gratify you with even a smile of approval at so callous a joke,” he said coolly. ”To trample on my feelings so is positively inhuman. Still, that 'exception' emboldens me.”
”In what way?”
”That finding you interested in one of my books, I want you to let me--I want you to favour me by accepting from me a set?”
”A set?”
”I have been guilty of five others.” Mock despair was in his tone.
”Accept my contrite apologies.”
”Five others!”
”I have to plead guilty to that number. Heinous, isn't it?”
”Oh, I did not mean that.”
”And so young too!”
”Really, Mr. Masters!” The flush was being worn again. ”You are, really, too bad; raking up old grievances!”
”I would like you to try and think there is a substratum of good.”
She ignored his speech, rather the significance in the tone of its delivery; said:
”I did not know--I confess openly, you see. This makes but the third of yours I have read.”
”Then there is a possibility of interest being left in the three you have not read. Let the weather be my excuse for forcing them on you.”
”As if an excuse were needed! Pray do not speak of your kindness so!”
”Then--I have some work I must finish this afternoon for the post--may I bring them to you this evening?”
She hesitated a moment. Induced to do so by a thought of the unwisdom of playing with fire. His hyper-sensitive nature made him shrink from that hesitation, to nervously say:
”I beg your pardon. I mean I will make a parcel of them and send them up to you.”
The note of pain in his voice was so plain that any question of her wisdom--or want of it--vanished. She was moved to put her hand on his arm; to say:
”Don't deprive me of half the pleasure of the gift. Please bring them yourself.”
It was a pretty little speech. Prettily spoken. No answering word came to his lips, but the look of gladness in his eyes was eloquent. Eloquent enough to make her mentally pause again and ask herself: was she acting altogether wisely?
Miss Mivvins was sailing under false colours. Was not in a position to haul them down, or fly her own. But she found him entertaining and--and--and very pleasant to talk to. She left it at that.