"It's my heart," said Fitz. "I saw you—and that is all there is to it."
"Aren't you in something of a hurry?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. She had felt for a moment like a soldier surprised without weapons. But now, once more, she felt herself armed cap à pie.
"I've got to be," said Fitz. "I'm a bank clerk on a two weeks' vacation, of which the first day is gone."
She was sorry that he was a bank clerk; it had a poor and meagre sound. It was not for him that she had been trained. She had been made to slave for herself, and was to make a "continental" marriage with the highest bidder. Eve's heart had been pretty well schooled out of her, and yet, before dinner came to an end, she found herself wishing that among the high bidders might be one very young, like the man at her side, with eyes as honest, and who, to express admiration, beat about no bushes.
Later, when they said good-by, Fitz said:
"It would be good for me to see you to-morrow."
And she said:
"Would it be good for me?" and laughed.
"Yes," he said firmly, "it would."
"Why?" she asked.