“And ‘me’ is worth the whole posse put together. Which doctor?”
“Dr. Abbe.”
“Abbe? Abbe?—oh! that good-looking little fellow? Does he know how to flirt?”
“I hope not! He knows too much to be a fool. If he didn’t I wouldn’t have him there.”
“Guess I’ll come and teach him how—yes, I’ll come.”
“You won’t come to visit me unless you promise not to lead him on—to nothing. Besides, you might get caught in your own toils.”
“I can take care of myself, thank you.”
“I am not so sure of that,” Polly demurred. “You didn’t use to be this way, Patty. What’s the matter?” She had dropped into a confidential tone.
Patricia’s face grew pink. She laughed uncertainly. “Oh, I’m all right!” she returned, stooping ostensibly to tie her shoe, which the other was positive did not need tying.
“I don’t like it,” Polly went on softly; “I like you best as you always have been. You are too much a woman to be a flirt.”