'What do you want to bother about?'
'Couldn't you come out and dine with me, Mavis? It would be a change'—he was going to say 'for you', but altered it—'for me.'
'Oh no, Vincy; you can't take me out to dinner. I don't look up to the mark.' She looked in a glass. 'My hat—it's a very good hat—it cost more than you'd think—but it shows signs of wear.'
'Oh, that reminds me,' began Vincy. 'What do you think happened the other day? A cousin of mine who was up in London a little while bought a hat—it didn't suit her, and she insisted on giving it to me! She didn't know what to do to get rid of it! I'd given her something or other, for her birthday, and she declared she would give this to me for my birthday, and so—I've got it on my hands.'
'What a very queer thing! It doesn't sound true.'
'No; does it? Do have some more tea, Mavis darling.'
'No, thanks; I'll have another cake.'
'May I smoke?'
She laughed. 'Asking me! You do what you like in your own house.'
'It's yours,' he answered, 'when you're here. And when you're not, even more,' he added as an afterthought.