"Mine?" she said archly.
"If you would like them," said the millionaire graciously.
"Naughty man!" She shook the finger at him and then pointed it at the forget-me-nots.
"Who sent them to you?" Her chin tilted the question.
He regarded it gravely. "A woman sent them," he said.
She nodded and the little jets dingled at him.
"This woman?" She placed the finger on her chest and looked at him reproachfully.
The millionaire's look broke in startled confusion. He glanced swiftly at the flowers. "Why—yes—of course!... I ought to have thanked you.... But—I have not been well, you know." He smiled whimsically.
She motioned it aside. "I don't mind being thanked—so long as you got them!" Her eyes travelled about the room. "They are the only ones you have!" she said reflectively.