"Are you serious?" she asked quickly. "I mean, do you really want my opinion, or are you being polite?"
"I don't think you a fool, you know," said Willie Ruston.
She flashed a glance of understanding, mingled with reproach, at him, and, leaning forward again, said,
"Has he come about Omofaga?"
"That you might tell me too—or will you want all Omofaga if you do so much?"
For a moment she smiled in recollection. Then her face grew sad.
"Much of Omofaga I shall have!" she said.
"Oh, I'll write," he promised carelessly.
"Write!" she repeated in low, scornful tones. "Would you like to be written to about it? It'll happen to you, and I'm to be written to!"
"Well, then, I won't write."