She tore the programme into two pieces, and Laverick was conscious of a ridiculous feeling of pleasure at her indifference.
“If you hear anything more about him,” he said, “you might let me know. You are a brave young lady to dismiss your admirers so summarily.”
“Perhaps I am quite satisfied with one,” laughing softly.
Laverick told himself that at his age he was behaving like an idiot, nevertheless his eyes across the table expressed his appreciation of her speech.
“Tell me something about yourself, Mr. Laverick,” she begged.
“For instance?”
“First of all, then, how old are you?”
He made a grimace.
“Thirty-eight—thirty-nine my next birthday. Doesn’t that seem grandfatherly to you?”
“You must not be absurd!” she exclaimed. “It is not even middle-aged. Now tell me—how do you spend your time generally? Do you really mean that you go and play cards at your club most evenings?”