"Tell
me all about yourself," she said; and proceeded to cross-question him
about his life and his adventures.
Poor Samuel was like a witness in the hands of a prosecutor--he became
hopelessly confused and frightened. But that made no difference to the
girl, who poured a ceaseless fire of questions upon him, until she had
laid his whole life bare. She even made him tell about Manning, the
stockbroker, and how the family had lost its money in the collapse of
Glass Bottle Securities. And then her cousin put in a word about his
adventure with "Old Stew," and Samuel had to tell that all over again,
and to set forth his sociological convictions--Miss Wygant and her
cousin meantime exchanging glances of wonder and amusement.
At last, however, they tired of him and fell to talking of a dance
they were to attend and a tennis tournament in which they were to
play. And so Samuel had a chance to gaze at Miss Wygant and to feast
his eyes upon her beauty. He could have dreamed of no greater joy in
all this world than to watch her for hours--to study every detail of
her features and her costume, and to see the play of laughter about
her mouth and eyes.
But then came the butler announcing luncheon; and Samuel rose in a
panic. He had a sudden vision of himself being asked to the table, to
sit under Miss Wygant's merciless survey. "I think I'd better go now,"
he said.
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