Boots, I--I had hoped--expected--and I was right! They _were_ on the verge of it!" "I think so, too," he said.
She looked up curiously.
"Did Philip ever say--" "No; he never _says_, you know." "I thought that men--close friends--sometimes did." "Sometimes--in romantic fiction.

Phil wouldn't; nor," he added smilingly, "would I." "How do you know, Boots ?" she asked, leaning back to watch him out of mischievous eyes.

"How do you know what you'd do if you were in love--with Gladys, for example ?" "I know perfectly well," he said, "because I am." "In love!" incredulously.
"Of course." "Oh--you mean Drina." "Who else ?" he asked lightly.
"I thought you were speaking seriously.

I"-- all her latent instinct for such meddling aroused--"I thought perhaps you meant Gladys." "Gladys who ?" he asked blandly.
"Gladys Orchil, silly! People said--" "Oh, Lord!" he exclaimed; "if people 'said,' then it's all over.

Nina! do I look like a man on a still hunt for a million ?" "Gladys is a beauty!" retorted Nina indignantly.
"With the intellect of a Persian kitten," he nodded.