"No—yours, I should say," she replied.
"Why mine?"
"To give you something to guess."
"I'm a poor guesser," he protested.
"I thought as much!" she mocked. "It's a masculine failing, I—understand."
"Say rather it is a faculty distinctly feminine—and raised to the nth degree."
"What are you two talking about?" demanded Pendleton.
"I haven't the slightest idea!" Miss Emerson answered. "Have you, Mr. Burgoyne?"
"If I have, I can't find it."
"Who ever knows what they are talking about at a dinner party?" said Pendleton. "Moreover, who cares? It's all bubbles, usually, that burst the moment they are blown."