He took her programme.
"I don't see any vacancies," he said. "Shall I create one?"
He drew his pencil through Stubby Abbott's name. Stubby's signature was rather liberally inscribed there, he thought. Betty looked at him a trifle uncertainly.
"Aren't you a trifle—sweeping?" she inquired.
"Perhaps. Stubby won't mind. Do you?" he asked.
"I seem to be defenseless." Betty shrugged her shoulders. "What shall we quarrel about this time?"
"Anything you like," he made reckless answer.
"Very well, then," she said as they got up to dance. "Suppose we begin by finding out what there is to quarrel over. Are you aware that practically every time we meet we nearly come to blows? What is there about me that irritates you so easily?"
"Your inaccessibility."