I--I do not think the scissors
are here, after all."
"That can be ascertained only by searching, miss," replied Tiffles. Then
he glided about the room in his own nimble fashion, looking behind the
two vases on the mantelpiece, raking over the littered burden of the
table in the corner, and peering and poking into every place where there
was the least likelihood of finding a stray pair of scissors; Miss
Wilkeson all the while deprecating any further search.
Mr. Tiffles suddenly stopped, like a dragonfly in the midst of his
angular dartings, and said: "Since your scissors are not to be found, it
is fortunate that I have a pocket pair, which are always at your
service." Mr. Tiffles produced the ill-omened article, and handed it to
her. This called out a new lot of thanks, regrets for having troubled
him, apologies, and a peremptory refusal to take his scissors,
immediately followed by their acceptance, and a promise that she would
take the best care of them, and return them to the owner on his
next visit.
Then was the auspicious moment for Miss Wilkeson to have retired with
dignity; but she stood at the door, twirling the fatal scissors in her
hand, and waiting either to say something which did not come
spontaneously, or to have something said to her.
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