“Do you think Dick is in love with Zoe?” asked Helena, when the laughter of the sailor and his companion had died away.
“Do I think you are in love with me?” retorted Maurice lazily. “My dearest, Dick is as much in love with that wicked little brunette, as I am with a certain charming blonde.”
“I’m glad of that,” said Helena complacently. “I do not wish to lose Zoe.”
“You must when she marries.”
“Oh no! If Dick becomes her husband, he will stay here. I’m sure he would not mind, as he is very fond of you.”
“That’s very kind of him, considering the battering I gave him yesterday.”
“Oh, Maurice, it was terrible!”
“For Dick?”
“No; for you.”
“Poor Dick! he got the worst of it, yet you pity me.”