He had passed as between blank walls.

What would he not have given now for but the least memory of one glance! But the eyes were waiting and he must answer.
"Why--ah--you know,--ah--_toys!_" It was an inspiration and Livingstone shook himself with self-approval.
"Yes--ah--TOYS! you know ?" he repeated.
He glowed with satisfaction over his escape.
The announcement, however, did not appear to astonish his companion as much as he felt it should have done.

She did not even take her eyes from his face.
"How many children are there ?" "Why--twenty." Livingston caught at a number, as a sinking man catches at a twig.
As she accepted this, Livingstone was conscious of elation.

He felt as though he were playing a game and had escaped the ignominy of a wrong answer: he had caught a bough and it held him.
"How old are they ?" Livingstone gasped.

The little ogress! Was she just trifling with him?
Could it be possible that she saw through him?
As he looked down at her the eyes fastened on him were as calm as a dove's eyes.
"Why--ah--.