"That depends"—
"Well, too old for marrying, say?"
"That depends too," she answered, her color heightening, in spite of her determination not to look conscious.
"To marry," he continued, "say,—for the sake of example merely,—say a girl of twenty-one. You ought to know what a lady of twenty-one would think."
"I know a great deal that I should never think of telling."
"But I am in earnest. You see this is an important question."
"You had better ask the lady herself."
"The lady? I said a lady. Besides, as I said this morning (pardon my repeating it), 'the little god of love won't turn the spit—spit—spit.'"
"Of course you are not too old," Patty said with a sudden flash of the eyes, "to marry a girl of twenty—if she would accept you."
"I said twenty-one," he returned; "but the difference isn't material. You've evaded the question. What I want to get at is, wouldn't she think I was too old to accept?"