Quimby groaned.
"Oh, misery!" he gasped. "This—my destiny is too much for me! Oh! the evil deeds of darkness! Listen to me, I implore you! It is all a mistake! I thought"
"Of course it was a mistake! You did not suppose I thought you fell purposely, did you, dear?" quickly interrupted Celeste, blindly or willfully misunderstanding—who shall say which? "But please get up, Cyn may come."
At this Quimby scrambled to his feet with startling suddenness, and exclaiming hastily,
"I will—I will write and tell you all—all! I have an engagement now with a friend just around the corner!" he rushed from the room, and would have flown, but the pertinacious Celeste had followed, and just as he reached the outside hall, regardless of the publicity, flung herself around his neck, this time without bringing him to the ground.
"It is not necessary to write!" she cried. "Pray, do not take such a trifle so much to heart. Remember I am yours, and"
Another voice from the stairs just above the pair, interrupted her. It was the voice of Fishblate père, and it said,
"Hugging! Marry her!"
