"Not in the least. You can tell me about your school."
"I would rather sit and watch you in silence," he said, "unless you like to talk. I should like that."
He seemed a queer boy; there was something almost sad in his quietness, but Stella felt that it was only temporary.
"He is tired, poor boy," she thought.
Presently she said:
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen," he said.
She looked at him.
"I did not think you were so old," she said, with a laugh.
He smiled.