“They certainly are.”
“You see—I wasn't in love with Mr. Arkwright.”
“I see—I hope.”
“And—and you didn't care specially for—for Miss Winthrop?”
“Eh? Well, no!” exploded Bertram. “Do you mean to say you really—”
Billy put a soft finger on his lips.
“Er—'people who live in glass houses,' you know,” she reminded him, with roguish eyes.
Bertram kissed the finger and subsided.
“Humph!” he commented.
There was a long silence; then, a little breathlessly, Billy asked: