“A sweet? Or shall we decide about that later?”
“Later. I may be too much surprised by that time to want a sweet.”
She was regarding him intently, with a very curious expression. He avoided her eyes.
“Yes, it may surprise you,” he said. “Here, waiter!... Of course you know—(Sole, hearts of lettuce and tomato salad, French dressing, iced tea for one, large coffee, sweets later)—what an emotional animal I am.—(Two salads, yes.)—Or romantic. Whatever you like to call it. (Sole for two.) After all, I don’t know why—(No, hot coffee for one.)—Why I should be so self-conscious about it. The fact is simple enough. I’m going to be married.”
“Oh! How exciting. When?”
“When? When, did you say? Why, right away. This evening perhaps.”
“Who is the lady?”
“I’d rather not tell you yet.”
“Yet? But it’s to be this evening, you say.”
“You would know her name at once and you might be prejudiced in spite of yourself. I can’t very well explain it. But I want you to meet her first.”