"Always," he replied, instantly, though his heart was still in the clutch of his new-born passion.
"I shall be on my guard next time.... I see Mr. Bartol in the doorway. Don't you think we'd better go in? What time do you suppose it is?"
"The saddest time in the world for me if you are going to leave me."
"Don't be maudlin." She had recovered her self-command, and was disposed to be extra severe. "Sentimental nothings is hardly your strong point."
"What is my strong point?"
She was ready with an answer. "Plain down-right impudence."
He, too, was recovering speech. "I'm glad I have one strong trait. I was afraid there was nothing about me to make a definite impression on a proud beauty like you."
"Please don't try to be literary. Stick to your oars and your baseball raquet."
"Bat," he corrected.
"I meant bat."