“I’m starving,” she said.
“You poor child.” He looked down at her with his fine dark eyes.
“And yet I’m terribly frightened.”
“At what?” he said with a smile.
“Oh, all these wonderful men with their queer wives. Why do great men marry such funny women, do you suppose?”
“Be careful, little girl,” West whispered.
Fanny shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not very diplomatic, am I?”
“Perhaps you’ll learn to be as you grow older,” he said, smiling again. “Diplomacy usually comes with age. It’s only the very young who can afford to be frank. It’s one of the graces of youth.”
Fanny flushed. “I believe you are making fun of me, Mr. West.”
“Oh, no,” West replied, gallantly. “I’m merely telling you the truth.”