"Of course. What of it?"
"What an extravagance!" she commented.
She could say no more; a procession of dishes commenced: meats, ices, sweetmeats, fruit, wines, coffee, liqueurs; all of which were refused, first by Mavis, then by Windebank.
Mavis, who had been accustomed to consider carefully the spending of a penny, was appalled at the waste. She had hoped that Windebank, after seeing how she was resolved to keep her word, would have countermanded the expensive supper he had ordered; failing this, that the management of the restaurant would not charge for the unconsumed meats and wine. Windebank would have been flattered could he have known of Mavis's consideration for his pocket.
He and the girl talked when the attendants were out of the way, to stop conversing when they were immediately about them; the two would resume where they had left off, directly they were sure of not being overheard.
"Just imagine, if you were little Mavis Keeves grown up," began Windebank.
"Never mind about her," replied Mavis uneasily.
"But I do. I loved her, the cheeky little wretch."
"Was she?"
"A little flirt, too."