He had said all this with scarcely a pause for breath and without giving her an opportunity to speak, as though surprise made him disregardful of labial punctuation of his sentences. Indeed, Mrs. Propbridge did not succeed in getting her hand free from his grasp until he had uttered the final "well."
"You have the advantage of me," she said. "I do not know you. I am sure I never saw you before."
At this his sudden shift from cordiality to a look half incredulous, half embarrassed was almost comic.
"What?" he demanded, falling back a pace. "Surely this is Mrs. Beeman Watrous of Wilmington? I can't be mistaken!"
"But you are mistaken," she insisted; "very much mistaken. My name is not Watrous; my name is Propbridge."
"Madam," he cried, "I beg ten thousand pardons! Really, though, this is one of the most remarkable things I ever saw in my life--one of the most remarkable cases of resemblance, I mean. I am sure anyone would be deceived by it; that is my apology. In my own behalf, madam, I must tell you that you are an exact counterpart of someone I know--of Mrs. Beeman Watrous, a very good friend of mine. Pardon me once more, but may I ask if you are related to Mrs. Beeman Watrous? Her cousin perhaps? It isn't humanly possible that two persons should look so much alike and not be related?"
"I don't think I ever heard of the lady," stated Mrs. Propbridge somewhat coldly.
"Again, madam, please excuse me," he said. "I am very, very sorry to have annoyed you." He bowed his bared head and turned away. Then quickly he swung on his heel and returned to her, his hat again in his left hand.
"Madam," he said, "I am fearful that you are suspecting me of being one of the objectionable breed of he-flirts who infest this place. At the risk of being tiresome I must repeat once more that your wonderful resemblance to another person led me into this awkward error. My name, madam, is Murrill--Valentine C. Murrill--and I am sure that if you only had the time and the patience to bear with me I could find someone here--some acquaintance of yours perhaps--who would vouch for me and make it plain to you that I am not addicted to the habit of forcing myself upon strangers on the pretext that I have met them somewhere."