"_You_ will be by yourself too, will not you?
Tell me" (speaking with lowered confidential tone), "do _your_ chairs and tables ever make odd noises ?" "Awful!" he answers, laughing.

"I can hardly hear myself speak for them." I laugh too.
"You might as well tell me before you go what the remark that I quenched was?
One always longs to hear the things that people are _going_ to say, and do not! Have no fear! your nose is quite safe!" "It is nothing much," he answers, with self-conscious stiffness, looking down and poking about the little dark pebbles with his cane; "nothing that you would care about." "_Care about!_" echo I, leaning my back against the dusk house-wall, and staring up at the sombre purple of the sky.

"Well, no! I dare say not! What _should_ I care to hear now?
I am sure I should be puzzled to say! But, as I have been so near it, I may as well be told." "As you will!" he answers, with an air of affected carelessness.

"It is only that, if they _do not_ come to-morrow--" "_Fourth time!_" interject I, counting on my fingers and smiling.
"If you _wish_--if you _like_--if it would be any comfort to you--I shall be happy--I mean I shall be very glad to come up again about the same time to-morrow evening." "_Will_ you ?" (eagerly, with a great accession of exhilaration in my voice).

"Are you serious?
I shall be so much obliged if you will, but--" "It is _impossible_ that any one can say any thing," he interrupts, hastily.