“I haven’t been in the city long,” he said, with a chivalrous desire to give her information about himself. “I’m from Charleston.”
“Oh, are you? Do you like it here?”
“No,” he answered, promptly. “Not much.”
She was a little taken aback at that, and while she was thinking of a polite rejoinder, the young man had taken from his pocket a leather case, and was proffering a card.
Mr. Nicholas Landry.
“Thank you!” she murmured.
He waited a moment, hoping perhaps for some sort of reciprocation, but none came. So—
“May I sit down?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, do!” she answered.