"What might your line be, guvnor?" he asked as he set down his glass.
"Oh, anything that's going," I replied carelessly. "City work is rather my specialty."
"I know!" Mr. Moss exclaimed quickly. "Slap-up offices; thousands of letters a day full of postal orders; shutters up suddenly—and bunco! Fine appearance for the job!" he added admiringly.
Eve sat down and began to laugh softly to herself. She had a habit of laughing almost altogether with her eyes in a way that expressed more genuine enjoyment than anything I have ever realized. She rocked herself gently backward and forward. Mr. Moss looked at us both a little suspiciously.
"Seem to be missing the joke a bit—I do!" he remarked.
Eve sat up and was instantly grave.
"It is your clear-sighted way of putting things," she explained softly.
"You seem to understand people so thoroughly."
"I don't generally make no mistake about the number of beans in the game," Mr. Moss observed in a self-congratulatory tone. "I can tell a crook from a mug a bit quicker than most."
"I have suggested to Mr. Moss, my dear," Mr. Parker intervened, turning toward us with beaming face, "just a little early dinner—say, at Stephano's—just as we are, you know. Will this be agreeable to you?"
"Certainly!" Eve assented promptly.