IV
MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S MADNESS
At length, awed and not a little shamefaced, "I beg your pardon," he stammered wretchedly.
"For what?" she demanded quickly, head up and eyes light.
"For insisting. It wasn't—ah—courteous. I'm sorry."
It was her turn now to wonder; delicacy of perception such as this is not ordinarily looked for in the person of a burglar. With a laugh and a gibe she tried to pass off her astonishment.
"The thief apologizes to the thief?"
"Unkind!"
Briefly hesitant, with an impulsive gesture she flung out a generous hand.
"You're right; I was unkind. Forgive me. Won't you shake hands? I … I do want to be a good comrade, since it has pleased Fate to throw
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