Pique and a flash of temper, however, saved her from tears, and she said, "You are so brave and handsome that you must have found it a very easy task--much easier than it would be for me--to convince those confiding ones of your affection ?" "Yes," replied John, plunging full sail upon the breakers, "I admit that usually they have been quite easy to convince.

I am naturally bold, and I suppose that perhaps--that is, I may possibly have a persuasive trick about me." Shades of good men who have blundered into ruin over the path of petty vanity, save this man! But no, Dorothy must drink the bitter cup of knowledge to the dregs.
"And you have been false to all of these women?
she said.
"Ah, well, you know--the devil take it! A man can't be true to a score of women," replied John.
"I am sure none of them wished you to be true," the girl answered, restraining her tears with great difficulty.
At that point in the conversation John began to suspect from the manner and shapeliness of his companion that a woman had disguised herself in man's attire.

Yet it did not once occur to him that Dorothy's fair form was concealed within the disguise.

He attempted to lift my soft beaver hat, the broad rim of which hid Dorothy's face, but to that she made a decided objection, and John continued: "By my soul I believe you are a woman.

Your walk"-- Dorothy thought she had been swaggering like a veritable swash-buckler--"your voice, the curves of your form, all betray you." Dorothy gathered the cloak closely about her.
"I would know more of you," said John, and he stepped toward the now interesting stranger.