“It’s awfully stupid, but I haven’t any about me,” he said, fingering what he knew that she knew to be the well filled case he always carried in his inner pocket. He did not approve of women smoking.
But “Poor Dicky!” was all she said.
“Your fifteen minutes are up, Betty,” he said presently, taking out his watch.
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to go then.”
Dick rose politely.
“You really don’t care whether I go or stay, do you?” she sighed.
“I would rather have you go, Betty,” he said gravely.
Betty’s eyes filled with sudden tears, that Dick to his surprise realized were genuine.
“I wanted you to want me to stay,” she said incoherently.