“We have heard of you, you know,” she began smilingly.
“Oh, really!” Mr. Sprudell lifted one astonished brow. “I cannot imagine——” He was thinking that Miss Dunbar had remarkably good teeth.
“And we want you to tell us something of your adventure in the West.”
“Which one?”
“Er—the last one.”
“Oh, that little affair of the blizzard?” Mr. Sprudell laughed inconsequently. “Tut, tut! There’s really nothing to tell.”
“We know better than that.” She looked at him archly.
It was then he discovered that she had especially fine eyes.
“I couldn’t have done less than I did, under the circumstances.” Mr. Sprudell closed a hand and regarded the polished nails modestly. “But—er—frankly, I would rather not talk for publication.”
“People who have actually done something worth telling will never talk,” declared Miss Dunbar, in mock despair, “while those——”