"Will you love me, Sybilla?"
She struggled silently, desperately.
"_Will_ you?"
"No.... Let me go----"
"Don't cry--please, dear--" His head, bowed beside hers over their
clasped hands, was more than she could endure; but her upflung face,
seeking escape, encountered his. There was a deep, indrawn breath, a sob,
and she lay, crying her heart out, in his arms.
* * * * *
"Darling!"
"W-what?"
It is curious how quickly one recognizes unfamiliar forms of address.
"You won't cry any more, will you?" he whispered.
"N-n-o," sighed Sybilla.
"Because we _do_ love each other, don't we?"
"Y-yes, George." Then, radiant, yet sweetly shamed, confident, yet
fearful, she lifted her adorable head from his shoulder.
"George," she said, "I am beginning to think that I'd like to get off
this table."
"You poor darling!"
"And," she continued, "if you will go home and change your overalls for
something more conventional, you shall come and dine with us this
evening, and I will be waiting for you in the drawing-room.... And,
George, although some of your troubles are now over----"
"All of them, dearest!" he cried with enthusiasm.
"No," she said tenderly, "you are yet to meet Pa-_pah_."
[Illustration]
XIV
GENTLEMEN OF THE PRESS
_A Chapter Concerning Drusilla, Pa-pah and a Minion_
Capital had now been furnished for The Green Mouse, Limited; a great
central station of white marble was being built, facing Madison Avenue
and occupying the entire block front between Eighty-second and Eighty-
third streets.
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