"Oh!—Yes, naturally, but—"
"Well, I think this is the call plainly due me from my Reunion party last year."
"No! Not at all! At the same time, it has been since that day that I have had you on my mind so much."
He said this in a perfectly matter-of-fact voice, but a certain nervousness had broken through into his manner. He took a turn up and down the room, and returned suddenly to his seat.
"Oh, have you had me on your mind?"
"Do you remember my saying that day," he began, resolutely, "that I was not sure whether I had got the better of you or you had got the better of me?"
"I remember very well."
"Well, I have come to tell you that—you have won."
He had plucked a pencil from the arsenal of them in his breast-pocket, and with it was beating a noiseless tattoo on his open left palm. With an effort he met her eyes.
"I say you were right," came from him nervously. "Don't you hear?"