Lionel stopped laughing. "Am I? By Jove! then you've noticed it, too. Most extraordinary how it sharpens one's wits, rubbing up against Americans! Did you see me at lunch?" he inquired eagerly.
"Rubbing up against Americans?" Kate opened her eyes in feigned astonishment.
"Really, Kate, I wish you'd heard me," he went on earnestly. "I said one or two rather good things."
"To Mrs. Merle?"
"Oh, come, I say!" protested Lionel. "You know who I mean, the American girl—Miss—Miss——"
"Oh, the secretary," Kate stifled a yawn. "Sorry I didn't notice her. What's she like?"
A Machiavellian suggestion entered Lionel's artless mind. "Awfully jolly sort!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm. "Devilish pretty eyes—and fluffy hair—I wish I could remember it," he frowned.
"You've just said it was fluffy."
"I don't mean her hair; of course I couldn't forget that. I was trying to remember something I said to her."
"How unfortunate," purred Kate. "You should have written it down."