He looked over her shoulder again, and saw that Shepler was waiting for her.
"I think your friends are impatient."
"They can wait. Mr. Bines, I wonder if you have quite a correct idea of all New York people."
"Probably not; I've met so few, you know."
"Well, of course,—but of those you've met?"
"You can't know what my ideas are."
"I wish we might have talked more—I'm sure—when are you leaving?"
"I shall leave to-morrow."
"And we're leaving for the country ourselves. Papa and mamma go to-morrow—and, Mr. Bines, I should have liked another talk with you—I wish we were dining at the Oldakers' again."
He observed Shepler strolling toward them.