"Say that my clothes improve me, and that in reality I'm a horrid, thin little beast!" she exclaimed, laughing. "I know I am, but I haven't finished growing yet. Really that's the truth, Mr. Quarren. Would you believe that I have grown an inch since last spring?" "I believe it," he said, "but would you mind stopping now? You are exactly right." "You _know_ I'm thin and flat as a board!" "You're perfect!" "It's too late to say that to me----" "It is too early to say more." "Let's don't talk about myself, please." "It has become the only subject in the world that interests me----" "Please, Mr. Quarren! Are you actually attempting to be silly at this hour of the day? The wise inanities of midnight sound perilously flat in the sunshine--flatter than the flattest champagne, which no bread-crumbs can galvanise into a single bubble. Tell me, why did you wish to see me this morning. I mean the real reason? Was it merely to find out whether I was weak-minded enough to receive you?" He looked at her, smiling: "I wanted to see whether you were as real and genuine and wholesome and unspoiled and--and friendly as I thought you were last night." "Am I?" "More so." "Are you so sure about my friendliness?" "I want to believe in it," he said. "It means a lot to me already." "Believe in it then, you very badly spoiled young man," she said, stretching out her hand to him impulsively. "I do like you.... And now I think you had better go--unless you want to see Mrs. Lannis." Retaining her hand for a second he said: "Before you leave town will you let me ask you a question?" "I am leaving to-morrow. You'll have to ask it now." Their hands fell apart; he seemed doubtful, and she awaited his question, smilingly. And as he made no sign of asking she said: "You have my permission to ask it. Is it a very impertinent question?" "Very." "How impertinent is it?" she inquired curiously. "Unpardonably personal." After a silence she laughed. "Last night," she said, "you told me that I would probably forget you unless I had something unpardonable to forgive you. Isn't this a good opportunity to leave your unpardonable imprint upon my insulted memory?" "Excellent," he said. "This is my outrageous question: are you engaged to be married?" For a full minute she remained silent in her intense displeasure. After the first swift glance of surprise her gray eyes had dropped, and she sat on the gilded arm of the sofa, studying the floor covering--an ancient Saraband rug, with the inevitable and monotonous river-loop symbol covering its old-rose ground in uninteresting repetition. After a while she lifted her head and met his gaze, quietly. "I am trying to believe that you did not mean to be offensive," she said. "And now that I have a shadow of a reason to pardon you, I shall probably do so, ultimately." "But you won't answer me?" he said, reddening. "Of course not. Are we on any such footing of intimacy--even of friendship, Mr. Quarren?"