But as to flirting with him or anything of that sort--why, my dear, he looks on me as a little boob from the country, and in my eyes he's simply a man who carries a latchkey to amusement and can give me a good time.

That's true.

I swear it." It was true, and Alice realized it, with immense relief.

She dried her eyes and held Joan away from her at arm's length and looked at her young, frank, intrepid face with puzzled admiration.

It didn't go with her determined trifling.