"Because it has made me acquainted with you."
"How can you be so silly?"
"I was born so. Tell me, how do you put in your time here?"
"Oh—I sing a good deal, I have a wonderful voice—and I bicycle, and—I read—and play tennis."
"Can you read—French?"
"Why, of course."
"Then I can lend you some ripping novels!"
"No, thank you," rather stiffly; assume a virtue if you have it not. Dom had once laboured through a few French exercises, and could no more read a page than ride a steeplechase.
But Jimmy was promptly taken in, and impressed.
"Proper, good little girl! Well, I must confess—some of them—are—a bit—strong."