"_You--you_!"

"Were you expecting to meet any one else, here, to-night?" she
inquired in suavest mockery.

He lifted his shoulders helplessly, and tried to school his tongue
to coherence. "I confess.... Well, certainly I didn't count on
finding you here, Miss Wentworth. And the black cloak, you know--"

"Reversible, of course: grey inside, as you see--Handsome Dan!"
The girl laughed quietly, drawing aside an edge of the garment to
reveal its inner face of silken grey and the fluted ruffles of the
grey skirt underneath.

He nodded appreciation of the device, his mind now busy with
speculations as to what he should do with the girl, now that he
had caught her. At the same time he was vaguely vexed by her
persistent repetition of the obsolescent nickname.

"Handsome Dan," he iterated all but mechanically. "Why do you call
me that, please? Have we met before? I could swear, never before
this night!"

"But you are altogether too modest," she laughed. "Not that it's a
bad trait in the character of a professional.... But really! it
seems a bit incredible that any one so widely advertised as
Handsome Dan Anisty should feel surprise at being recognized. Why,
your portrait and biography have commanded space in every yellow
journal in America recently!"