"Not about me."
"Does he not? And do you suppose I don't hear from Miss Stanbury?"
"But she hates me. I know that."
"And do you hate her?"
"No, indeed. I've the greatest respect for her. But she is a little odd; isn't she, now, Mr. Burgess? We all like her ever so much; and we've known her ever so long, six or seven years,—since we were quite young things. But she has such queer notions about girls."
"What sort of notions?"
"She'd like them all to dress just like herself; and she thinks that they should never talk to young men. If she was here she'd say I was flirting with you, because we're sitting together."
"But you are not; are you?"
"Of course I am not."
"I wish you would," said Brooke.