"But I'll say this," he whispered: "I'll say you're the most wonderful, the most beautiful, and the finest woman who has ever lived!" Anita Flagg's eyes left his quickly; and, with her head bent, she stared at the bass drum in the orchestra.
"I don't know," she said, "but that sounds just as good." When the curtain was about to rise she told him to take her back to her box, so that he could meet her friends and go on with them to supper; but when they reached the rear of the house she halted.
"We can see this act," she said, "or--my car's in front of the theatre--we might go to the park and take a turn or two or three.

Which would you prefer ?" "Don't make me laugh!" said Sam.
As they sat all together at supper with those of the box party, but paying no attention to them whatsoever, Anita Flagg sighed contentedly.
"There's only one thing," she said to Sam, "that is making me unhappy; and because it is such sad news I haven't told you.

It is this: I am leaving America.

I am going to spend the winter in London.

I sail next Wednesday." "My business is to gather news," said Sam, "but in all my life I never gathered such good news as that." "Good news!" exclaimed Anita.
"Because," explained Sam, "I am leaving, America--am spending the winter in England.