But she gave him, as for her conscience, another chance. "You can
if you like."
He hesitated afresh, but as for amiability, not for curiosity.
"Is it funny?"
Thus, finally, she again dropped her eyes on it, drawing in her
lips a little. "No--I call it grave."
"Ah, then, I don't want it."
"Very grave," said Charlotte Stant.
"Well, what did I tell you of him?" he asked, rejoicing, as they
started: a question for all answer to which, before she took his
arm, the girl thrust her paper, crumpled, into the pocket of her
coat.