"I think so; they were bright."
"What, aren't you sure? I don't think much of you as a lover."
"But I can never remember the colour of people's eyes," he pleaded. "I can't remember the colour of my mother's or my aunt's, or——"
"Quick, shut your eyes; what's the colour of my eyes?"
"Blue," Roland hazarded.
"Wrong. They're green. Cat's eyes. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I shall write and tell your Betty about it."
"But that's all over long ago, I told you."
"How did it end?"
"It never began," laughed Roland: "she never cared for me a bit."
Muriel pouted. "How unromantic," she said; then added with the quick, mischievous smile, "and how silly of her!"