He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. Now I ain’t saying as how that there Pottiswick—’ ‘How you talk,’ interrupted Melusine impatiently. Whatever she does is minimized. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. "I can't tell you!" she replied, blushing deeply, and clinching her little hand as tightly as possible; "it's a secret!" "I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully forcing the paper from her grasp. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue.
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