“Suppose,” she murmured, looking up at him, “that I were to say—another kiss!”
“Suppose, on the other hand,” he answered roughly, “you were to tell me the truth.”
She sighed gently.
“You jump so rapidly at conclusions,” she declared. “Are you sure that it would not be the truth!”
“If it were,” he began fiercely.
“If it were,” she interrupted, “well?”
“I would rather kiss Mademoiselle Rosine or whatever her name is,” he said. “I would sooner go out into the street and kiss the first woman I met.”
She shook her head.
“What an impossible person you are!” she murmured. “Of course, I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged his shoulders, and glanced at the clock.