“If you told him how much you were earning,” Fanny explained.
“Oh, he’d faint away, I suppose!”
Fanny shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t,” she replied, sadly. “He’d just laugh that big laugh of his. He has enormous teeth. Remember ’em? It’s fascinating to watch ’em. His sense of humor is awful!”
Guy sighed. “I suppose I might as well give you up,” he said, remembering vaguely that he had read of a young and interesting lover who used that speech on a similar occasion.
“Well, I guess not!” Fanny exclaimed. Then she clasped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, I s’pose I do kind of like you.”
“Why don’t you treat me better, then?” he asked pathetically.
Fanny lowered her head and looked up at him with mournful eyes. “You’re awfully interesting when you’re sad like this,” she said with satirical admiration.
Guy twisted impatiently. “Oh!” he exclaimed.
Fanny walked toward him and began to play with the buttons on his coat. “Say, Guy, what did you take this place for—this place with Uncle Doug?”
“I thought it would be a good place to see life.”