She made a little face at him. "Marko, you're not to snap me up like that. I've noticed it two or three times. I mean it doesn't matter what a man does. It's what he is that matters."
He laughed. "Well, that lets me down pretty badly if that's the estimate. I'm awful, you know."
She shook her head. "Oh, you're not so bad."
"You don't know me. I've been growing awful these years."
"Tell me how awful you are. Does Mabel think you're awful?"
"You ask her! I'm the most unsatisfactory sort of person it's possible to meet. Really."
"Go on; tell me, Marko. I like this."
"What, like hearing how unsatisfactory I am?"
"I like hearing you talk. You've got rather a nice voice—I used to tell you that, didn't I?—and I like hearing you stumbling about trying to explain your ideas. You've got ideas. You're rather an ideary person. Go on. Why are you unsatisfactory?"
How familiar her voice was on that note,—caressing, drawing him on.