She laid her slim white fingers upon his coat-sleeve.
"I wonder," she said, softly, "whether you will ever tell me." "If you look at me like that," he answered, smiling, "I shall tell you--a great many things." Her eyes fell.

It was too absurd at her age, but her cheeks were burning.
"You don't improve a bit," she declared.

"You were always too apt with your tongue." "I practiced in a good school," he answered.
"Dear me," she sighed.

"For elderly people what a lot of rubbish we talk." He shivered.
"What a hideous word," he remarked.

"You make me feel that my chest is padded and my hair dyed.