For a moment, I am dumfounded.

Then, for shyness has never been my besetting sin, and something in the genial laughter of his eyes reassures me.
I hold out the injured portion of my raiment, and say: "Look! when you see what you have done, I am sure you will forgive me; but of course I meant it for Bobby.

I never dreamt it was you." He takes hold of one end of the rent, I of the other, and we both examine it.
"How exceedingly clumsy of me! how could it have happened?
I beg your pardon ten thousand times." In his words there is polite remorse and solicitude; in his face only a friendly mirth.

He is old, that is clear.

Had he been young, he would have said, with that variety and suitability of epithets so characteristic of this generation: "I am awfully sorry! how awfully stupid of me! what an awful duffer I am!" The gas is shining in its garish yellow brightness full down upon us, as we stand together, illuminating my plain, scorched face, the slatternly looseness of my hair, and the burnt hole in my gown.
"You will have to give me another," I say, looking up at him and smiling.