“Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. ‘You are mad,’ Gosse uttered, and only just had time to get himself up from the floor. His assistance came too late. She had imagined she had drowned them altogether. I’m fine. "Or trying to be," answered the doctor. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. It looked very patient, she thought, and a little self-satisfied. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. ‘Never fear, my love. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing.
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