"You don't approve?"
"Well—I don't exactly like for women to smoke or use slang. Those things seem sort of unsexing. Of course, it's only an idea."
She smiled indulgently, rolling the cigarette to loosen the tobacco, as Basil did, with a great air of being an old hand at it. "I'm afraid you're narrow."
"I guess I am."
"Gracious! What you must be thinking of me!"
As she said it, she gave that little audacious laugh of delight in her freedom to be frank. But he became grave, and it was with deep earnestness that he answered, "I love you."
She, too, was grave and thoughtful now. "What a difference that does make! Then everything—anything seems all right."
"And is!"
She put her arm through his. "Here, take your cigarette. I'll not distress you."
"No—do smoke."