Will you let your servant call me a hansom,” she continued, opening the door before he could reach her side. “I am sure of it. He was always deceived by these rustlings which promised wind and seldom fulfilled that promise. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue.
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