He had forgotten his birthday himself.
"'Why,' he says! 'Why!' Why, look here!" She pointed to the calendar, and he saw, surrounding the big black number "21", hundreds of little crosses in black-lead.
"Oh, kisses for my birthday," he laughed.

"How did you know ?" "Yes, you want to know, don't you ?" Fanny mocked, hugely delighted.
"There's one from everybody--except Lady Clara--and two from some.

But I shan't tell you how many I put." "Oh, I know, you're spooney," he said.
"There you ARE mistaken!" she cried, indignant.

"I could never be so soft." Her voice was strong and contralto.
"You always pretend to be such a hard-hearted hussy," he laughed.

"And you know you're as sentimental--" "I'd rather be called sentimental than frozen meat," Fanny blurted.