"Can you?"
"Oh yes."
"Aren't you just a little bit theatrical, Dick?" Now, as she spoke she drew out Selwyn's handkerchief and began to tie and untie knots in it.
"Dick," she went on--and now she was tracing out Selwyn's monogram with her finger--"you tell me you know that Aunt Agatha has threatened to disinherit me; can you realise what that would mean to me, I wonder?"
"Only in some small part," I answered bitterly; "but it would be awful for you, of course--good-bye to society and all the rest of it--no more ball-gowns or hats and things from Paris, and----"
"And bearing all this in mind," she put in, "and knowing me as you do, perhaps you can make another guess and tell me what I am likely to do under these circumstances?"
Now, had I been anything but a preposterous ass, my answer would have been different; but then I was not myself, and I could not help noticing how tenderly her finger traced out those two letters "F.S.," so I laughed rather brutally and answered--
"Follow the instinct of your sex and stick to the Paris hats and things."
I heard her breath catch, and turning away, she began to flutter the pages of the book upon the table.
"And you were always so clever at guessing, weren't you?" she said after a moment, keeping her face averted.