“It was very nice of you,” I said; “but what about Olive Berdenstein? Doesn’t she like violets?”
He opened his mouth, but I held up my hand and stopped him; he had so much the look of a man who is about to make a momentary lapse into profanity.
“Don’t say anything rude, please. Where is she this morning?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, grimly. “Somewhere about, no doubt.”
“It should be a lesson to you,” I remarked, smiling up at him, “not to go about indulging in romantic adventures. They generally have a tiresome ending, you know. Do you always make such easy conquests, I wonder?”
He stopped short, and looked at me with darkened face.
“Is there any necessity,” he asked, “for you to go out of your way to irritate and annoy me?”
I ignored him for a moment or two.
“She is very rich,” I remarked. “Have you seen her diamonds?”