I met a beauty there,
but I did not care for her. I met you first on the stairway,
and a child introduced me."
"Children interest me, they always admire one," she said.
"They interest me, I always admire them," he said. "They are true."
She was silent, then changed the subject.
"A singular little incident befell me this evening," she said.
"As I was coming home from a luncheon-party, a wretched woman stopped me
and asked me to let her look at me."
"You did it, of course," he said.
She looked at him with her eyes wide open with surprise.
"What do you suppose a man said to me upstairs?" he asked her.
"What?"
"That you were engaged to someone."
"What! That I was engaged! To whom, pray?" She looked incredulous.
"To a fellow I saw up there -- Mr. `Router', I think he said was his name."
"The idea! Engaged to Mr. Router! You did not believe him, did you?"
"No, of course I did not; I trust you entirely."
She buried her face in the roses she held in her hand, and did not speak.
Her other hand rested on the arm of her chair next him.
It was fine and white. He laid his on it firmly, and leaning towards her,
said, "I beg your pardon for mentioning it. I am not surprised
that you are hurt. Forgive me. I could not care for you so much
if I did not believe in you.
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