Caspar Goodwood had crossed to Paris. After he had
lighted his cigarette he puffed it a while, and then he resumed. "I
promised just now to be very amusing; but you see I don't come up to
the mark, and the fact is there's a good deal of temerity in one's
undertaking to amuse a person like you. What do you care for my feeble
attempts? You've grand ideas- you've a high standard in such
matters. I ought at least to bring in a band of music or a company
of mountebanks."
"One mountebank's enough, and you do very well. Pray go on, and in
another ten minutes I shall begin to laugh."
"I assure you I'm very serious," said Ralph. "You do really ask a
great deal."
"I don't know what you mean. I ask nothing!"
"You accept nothing," said Ralph. She coloured, and now suddenly
it seemed to her that she guessed his meaning. But why should he speak
to her of such things? He hesitated a little and then he continued:
"There's something I should like very much to say to you. It's a
question I wish to ask. It seems to me I've a right to ask it, because
I've a kind of interest in the answer."
"Ask what you will," Isabel replied gently, "and I'll try to satisfy
you.
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