"No, indeed!" pursued the girl, relentlessly. "You are very nice, of course, and all that. But there is nothing so wonderful about you."
"Nothing—except my love for you."
He said this with an earnestness unlike himself.
The girl laughed, but the color deepened on her cheek, as she replied, lightly,
"Do you mean it is wonderful you should care for any one?—or wonderful that I should be the present object of your affections? I am told they change every month."
"I recognize Mr. Bloxsome there. What I meant was, that I never expected—that it was wonderful to find myself caring about any girl as I do about you."
Miss Planter turned away, and began humming "La donna e mobile." But there was a curious expression on her face, an expression which he would probably have been incapable of reading, had he seen it. It told of an internal struggle between the forces which are ever at war in such a woman's complex character.
"All my friends whom you abuse would give up anything for me."
"Would they? Try them. That's all!"
"While you would sacrifice nothing, not even your pride. Look at the other night!"