heaps with lightning rapidity, turning up one here and there, and he did
not raise his eyes from his occupation.

"I say, you know," he said in a drawl that was slightly nasal, "you will
have to tell me how old you are. Is that an obstacle?"

She wheeled round at the first deliberate syllable. The electric
light flared upon her pale, proud face. She stood in dead silence,
looking at him.

"You mustn't mind," he said persuasively, still without lifting his eyes.
"I swear I'll never tell. Come now!"

Very quietly she turned and closed the window; then with a certain
stateliness she advanced to the table at which he sat, and stopped
before it.

"I think you are making a mistake," she said, in a voice that had a hint
of girlish sweetness about it despite its formality.

He looked up then with a jerk, and the next instant was on his feet.

"Gad! I'm tremendously sorry! What must you take me for? I took you for
Mrs. Damer. I beg you will forgive me."

She smiled a little, and some of the severity went out of her face. For a
moment that too seemed girlish.

"It is of no consequence. I saw it was a mistake."