"Say what you please," he cried, all but caroling in his joy. "Only let me be by to hear, and let there be woods ahead where I may kiss you again."
"It's odd you should enjoy kissing me," she returned placidly. "It's droll. That's another thing I find charming in men. It's the energy with which they kiss a new woman."
Carleigh laughed heartily. "How rippingly you put it!" said he. "Come now, how many men have kissed you?"
"This year or in my whole life?"
"Either."
She considered a little and then she yawned. "I don't see the good in troubling to count. I know now that you are not really in love, so why bother further?"
"Bother further? Not really in love? What do you mean?"
"Why, my dear boy, don't get huffed. Surely even you know that a man really in love can't put up with a conversation like that. Of course, I'm asked here to cure you of the blues; not to plunge you into a fresh trap. You know that. And it's nice to see how well I do it."
"So you think I'm not really in love, eh?"
"I jolly well know you aren't."