But she was seeing him distinctly, and so ludicrous a figure of shy and sheepish contrition was he making that she with difficulty restrained her laughter.

He glanced guiltily at the long, red scratch on the pallid whiteness of her throat.
"I'm ashamed of myself," said he humbly.

"I'm not fit to touch a person like you.

I--I--" She was not so mean as she had thought she would be.

"It was nothing," said she pleasantly, if distantly.