"What do you want me to call you ?" "Oh, I don't know," he stammered, rather intimidated by this self-possessed young woman who looked him calmly through and through.

"Why not call me Jefferson?
Mr.Ryder is so formal." Shirley laughed outright, a merry, unrestrained peal of honest laughter, which made the passers-by turn their heads and smile, too, commenting the while on the stylish appearance of the two Americans whom they took for sweethearts.

After all, reasoned Shirley, he was right.

They had been together now nearly every hour in the day for over a month.

It was absurd to call him Mr.
Ryder.