"How stupid!" exclaimed Miss Guile. "Thank you, steward. This is much
better. So sorry, Mr. Schmidt, to have disturbed you. I abhor drafts,
don't you?"
"Not to the extent that I shall move out of this one," he replied
gallantly, "now that I've got an undisputed claim to it. I intend to
stand up for my rights, Miss Guile, even though you find me at your
feet."
"How perfectly love--" began Miss Guile, a gleam of real enthusiasm
in her eyes. A sharp, horrified look from her companion served as a
check, and she became at once the coolly indifferent creature who
exacts everything. "Thank you, Mr. Schmidt, for being so nice when we
were trying so hard to be horrid."
"But you don't know how nice you are when you are trying to be
horrid," he remarked. "Are you not going to sit down, now that we've
captured the disappearing chair?"
"No," she said, and he fancied he saw regret in her eyes. "I am going
to my room,--if I can find it. No doubt it also is lost. This seems
to be a day for misplacing things."
"At any rate, permit me to thank you for discovering me, Miss Guile.
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