“Ever taken anyone seriously?”
“That’s telling.”
“All right, then. Don’t tell.”
She looked up at him quickly. Her eyes seemed to be trying to read his face, which, beyond a slightly amused elevation of one eyebrow, was absolutely expressionless.
“Well, I have then,” she said, with a half laugh.
“So? Tell us all about it, Nessita.”
She looked up quickly—“I say, that’s rather a good name—I like it. It sounds pretty. No one ever called me that before.”
“Accept it from me, then.”
“Yes, I will. But, do you know—it’s awful cheek of you to call me by my name at all. When did you first begin doing it, by the way?”
“Don’t know. I suppose it came so natural as not to mark an epoch. Couldn’t locate the exact day or hour to save my life. Shall I return to ‘Miss Cheriton?’”