“I've had enough of the other sort,” was Miss Sellars' answer in low tones.
“Ah, well; it's the shy ones that come out the strongest after a bit—leastways, that's been my experience.”
“He'll do all right. So long.”
Miss Sellars, buttoning a burst glove, rejoined me.
“I suppose you've never had a sweetheart before?” asked Miss Sellars, as we turned into the Blackfriars Road.
I admitted that this was my first experience.
“I can't a-bear a flirty man,” explained Miss Sellars. “That's why I took to you from the beginning. You was so quiet.”
I began to wish that nature had bestowed upon me a noisier temperament.
“Anybody could see you was a gentleman,” continued Miss Sellars. “Heaps and heaps of hoffers I've had— h undreds you might almost say. But what I've always told 'em is, 'I like you very much indeed as a friend, but I'm not going to marry any one but a gentleman.' Don't you think I was right?”
I murmured it was only what I should have expected of her.