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"
Miss D'Alloi was crying and endeavoring at the same time to solve the
most intricate puzzle ever yet propounded by man or woman--that is, to
find a woman's pocket. She complicated things even more by trying to
talk. "I--I--know I'm ver--ver--very fooooooolish," she managed to get
out, however much she failed in a similar result with her
pocket-handkerchief.
"Since I caused the tears, you must let me stop them," said Peter. He
had produced his own handkerchief, and was made happy by seeing Leonore
bury her face in it, and re-appear not quite so woe-begone.
"I--only--didn't--know--you--could--talk--like--like that," explained
Leonore.
"Let this be a lesson for you," said Watts. "Don't come any more of your
jury-pathos on my little girl."
"Papa! You--I--Peter, I'm so glad you told me--I'll never go to one."
Watts laughed. "Now I know why you charm all the women whom I hear
talking about you. I tell you, when you rear your head up like that, and
your eyes blaze so, and you put that husk in your voice, I don't wonder
you fetch them.


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