Then recognition flashed between them. They laughed excitedly, like two children. To the scandal of the bewildered Ambassador's ears, they then entered upon the following incredible conversation:-- “Little Boy, where did you come from?” “Up there.” “From that cloud?” (The diplomat looking at the ceiling with pained amazement.) “Yes.” “Let--me--see,” said the girl dreamily. “What comes next? We mustn't lose it.” “Do you like gum?” he supplied quickly. (The ambassadorial eyes began to protrude.) “What's gum?” “Chewing-gum, of course. But alas! I haven't any with me,” lamented Carlo. “Then there was something about a tiger. “Oh, yes! I'm a tiger in my cage. Gr-rr-rr-rr! If I could get out I'd eat you up, Little Boy.” “Of course! 'Tiger! tiger! burning bright-- In the forests of the night!'” “Say some more. You couldn't remember it, though, could you? Can you remember it now?” He leaned over to her the merest trifle:-- “'What immortal hand and eye Framed thy wondrous symmetry?'” he quoted (slightly altering the text for his own purposes) with a look so direct and an intonation so profound that Paula, with all her armored experience, felt herself growing pink. “Then you brought me wonderful things to play with and a kite to fly and gum to chew,” she said. “And you put it in your hair.” “So I did. And they found it. But I didn't tell. I said an angel brought it to me. You remember? You were Angel.” “And you were Tiger.” Now, I realize that diplomats of ambassadorial degree do not snort. But the eminent gentleman on Miss Varick's left delivered his emotions of what, in a lesser mortal, would have been dangerously near a snort, and thenceforward devoted his attention to his hostess exclusively, thereby seriously hampering her in her efforts to follow the progress of the reunion of old playmates. Dinner being over, the Bonnie Lassie took the pair into her studio to see her new series of unfinished bronzes, and, having got them there, obeyed an imperative (and purely imaginary) summons from without, and left them. Quite unwisely--for she had forgotten one important incident herself--the Tiger reproached the Angel with his failure to remember her. “You promised,” she accused. “You said you'd never forget--never.” Now, a less ready wit than Carlo's might have retorted with the “ettu” argument, which would have been poor strategy. Carlo did better. “I have forgotten nothing,” he said calmly. “You forgot me. You didn't know me from--from any other tiger.” “There never was any other tiger. There couldn't be. Also, I remember every episode of our last meeting when I promised never to forget. Do you?” Something significant in his tone caused the Tiger certain misgivings. She began to feel dimly that her accusation was unfortunate. “Do you?” persisted the Angel.