"Since you wear a ring, it is evident that your engagement is to be announced. Will you tell me who is the fortunate man?"
She saw that he was gazing at the emerald she wore on her little finger. "Is there reason to think I am engaged—because of this?"
"Certainly, what else? A young girl's wearing a ring can mean but one thing."
"On my little finger? How ridiculous! My father gave it to me. Sometimes, at home, I wear several rings. Does that mean I am engaged to several men?"
"Then you are still free?"
He hesitated as though under an impulse to say something sentimental, then apparently changed his mind, and relapsed into his habitually detached indifference of manner.
"They have curious customs in your country," he said casually. "A friend of mine was in America last year. He told me many things!"
"Did he? What, for instance?"
"He said that the women sat in chairs that balanced back and forth——"
"Chairs that——" she interrupted. "Oh, you mean rocking-chairs! That's true, you don't have them over here, do you? I did not mean to interrupt. You said we rock——"