"
"It wasn't that at _all_," Ena assured him eagerly, almost piteously.
"I didn't mind having to speak to her because she's a shop girl, but
because I was afraid if we stopped and talked, my brother might come
along. I wouldn't have had that happen for anything."
"Why on earth not?"
"I can't tell you, Lord Raygan. Please don't ask me. You'll embarrass
me very much if you do. But will you just trust me that it would be a
very bad thing if they were to meet, and not insist on our going to
look her up at the waist counter or wherever she is?"
"Certainly I won't insist," said Rags. "I don't care, you know,
whether we look her up or not. Only she was Rolls's chum on the
_Monarchic_, and I thought if he---"
"Dear Lord Raygan, please don't think about it any more. And if you
want to be very kind, and make me real happy and comfortable, don't
tell Petro we met the girl--or even mention her. You _will_ promise
not, won't you?"
"Of course, if you ask me, that's enough," said Rags, looking rather
sulky. He was curious to know what she actually meant, but, of course,
could not ask, and somehow the whole affair--Ena's deep solemnity and
secrecy, her hints which mustn't be questioned, began to seem silly
and even rather repulsive.
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