"By that time you'll be a pretty old bird. You ticked off a goodly number of years just then. But, seriously, Patty, I don't want to bother you——"
"Well, you do bother me. Why, Phil, every single chance you get, you talk about——"
"About my love for you? I mean to, Patty, but you don't give me a chance. When I try to tell you of my love and devotion, you break loose about not wanting to be engaged——"
"Well, of course I do. A girl doesn't want to hear of love and devotion from a man she isn't engaged to, does she?"
"I don't know. I hope so, in this case. That is, I hope I'm the man you're going to be engaged to, and soon, so I can tell you of my love and devotion. They're deep, Patty, deep and true, and——"
"Then why did you treat me so horridly down at Lakewood, just because I enjoyed having to do with people who had some brains and weren't of the silly, addle-pated type we meet mostly in our own class of society?"
"But, Patty, dearest, those Blaneys aren't the real things. They haven't education and genius,—they only pretend they have."
"Phil, I think you're horrid. They have so. Why, Sam Blaney wrote a poem that's the most beautiful thing I ever read!"
"Let me see it."
"I can't. I promised I wouldn't. It's—it's sort of sacred——"