Amused, he rested both elbows on the parapet, looking at her from between the strong, lean hands that framed his face.
"It was droll--the way I managed to scurry like a jack-rabbit through school and college on nothing a year.

I was obliged to hurry post-graduate courses and Europe and such agreeable things.

Otherwise I would probably be more interesting to you--" "You are sufficiently interesting," she said, flushing up at his wilful misinterpretation.
And, as he laughed easily: "The horrid thing about it is that you _are_ interesting and you know it.

All I asked of you was to be seriously interesting to me--occasionally; and instead you are rude--" "Rude!" "Yes, you are!--pretending that I was disappointed in you because you hadn't dawdled around Europe for years in the wake of an education.

You are, apparently, just about the average sort of man one meets--yet I kicked over several conventions for the sake of exchanging a few premature words with you, knowing all the while I was to meet you later.
It certainly was not for your beaux yeux; I am not sentimental!" she added fiercely.