Again she grimaced at him, but she answered, "Oh, I only--after I'd had
my bath--lay on the floor and ran round my head for a bit. It's not a
bit difficult, once you've got the knack. But I got thinking of Mrs.
Paget--she does amuse me, that woman. Only yesterday she asked me what
Puck was short for, and I told her Elizabeth--and then I got laughing so
that I had to stop."

Her face was flushed, and she was slightly breathless as she ended, but
she stared across the table with brazen determination, like a naughty
child expecting a slap.

Merryon's face, however, betrayed neither astonishment nor disapproval.
He even smiled a little as he said, "Perhaps you would like to give me
lessons in that also? I've often wondered how it was done."

She smiled back at him with instant and obvious relief.

"No, I shan't do it again. It's not proper. But I will teach you to
dance. I'd sooner dance with you than any of 'em."

It was naïvely spoken, so naïvely that Merryon's faint smile turned into
something that was almost genial. What a youngster she was! Her
freshness was a perpetual source of wonder to him when he remembered
whence she had come to him.

"I am quite willing to be taught," he said. "But it must be in strict
privacy."

She nodded gaily.