with a tale which you don’t believe, and which wouldn’t interest you if you did; and so you just make fun of me.”
“Don’t say that; not that. Don’t say that to me you are a nothing and a nobody.”
“I am! I am!”
“You are not.”
“Then, why do you treat me as you do?”
“Treat you! How do I treat you? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you—nothing!”
“Mr. Paine!”
“Miss Purvis!”
I do not know how it happened. I protest, in cold blood, and in black and white, that I have no idea. But, on a sudden, I found that I had my arms about her. A moment before I had no intention of doing anything of the kind—that I swear. And I can only suppose that it was because, in her agitation, she really did not know what was happening, that she allowed her head to rest against my breast.
It was while it was there that a voice said, proceeding from the neighbourhood of the door:—
“This is a bit of all right; but where do I come in?”
