Olga elevated her chin slightly. "That shows how much you know about me."
"I know a great deal," said Noel, with an ardent glance. "And that's what makes me want to know much more. You know, you're horribly tantalizing, if you will allow me to say so."
"In what way?" She spoke coolly; there was a hint of challenge in the grey eyes she turned upon him.
He laughed without embarrassment. "I can't quite explain. There's something so elusively attractive—or do I mean attractively elusive?—about you. I call you 'the will-o'-the-wisp girl' to my own private soul."
"I hope your own private soul is too sensible to encourage such nonsense," said Olga severely.
He looked at her, sheer mischief dancing in his Irish eyes. "Come and see it some day and judge for yourself!" he said. "I can fix up a séance any time. It would always be at home to you. I'm sure you would get on together."
It was hard to restrain a smile; Olga permitted herself one of strictly limited proportions.
"I will show you a glimpse presently if you would care to see it," proceeded Noel.
"Oh, please don't trouble!" said Olga.
"Afraid of being bored?" he asked.