"Several young gentlemen."

"Moths."

"Oh no, butterflies."

"They must keep away now."

"Are you Rhadamanthus?"

"And Charon, too. I would have you row in the same boat with me."

"Now you are fishing."

"Won't you compliment me. Did I ever look better?"

His evening costume *was* becoming, but he looked pale, and weary,
and disturbed. But if we were engaged for a tournament, as his
behavior indicated, I must do my best at telling. So I told him
that he never looked better, and asked him how I looked. He would
look at me presently, he said, and decide. Mrs. Bliss skimmed by us
with nods and smiles; as she vanished our eyes followed her, and we
talked vaguely on various matters, sounding ourselves and each
other. When a furious redowa set in which cut our conversation into
rhythm he pushed up the window and said, "Look out."

I turned my face to him to do so, and saw the moon at the full,
riding through the strip of sky which our vision commanded. From
the moon our eyes fell on each other. After a moment's silence,