"Before chance threw us together you thought me distinctly wicked. You don't think that now, do you?"
"I told the paper I was in the camps of the Persians," he said sententiously. "They fired me then. Why tarry with the flesh-pots further?"
"I've often heard you say that men couldn't preach heaven until they knew life."
He threw up his hands in exasperation. "It isn't fair for a woman to be logical—it takes a man unawares."
"Then you admit I am logical?"
"Even if I wanted to stay, I couldn't."
"Why not?"
His head drooped and a faint colour showed under the bronze of his skin. But he remained silent.
"What's lacking?"
His discomfort was apparent. "I'd like to fix up a bit—get a hair-cut—and things," he stammered.