"Doesn't she care for you?" asked Annette; "turned you down?"
"I haven't asked her. She's shown very plainly what she thinks of me."
"Rubbish!" said Annette shortly. "No man in love is a judge of anything! He only knows that she has blue eyes, or he can't just remember, maybe they're brown, but anyway they're beautiful!" Annette's cousin grinned sheepishly.
"What colour are they?" asked Annette.
"I don't know, but I guess they're brown. I know they're unusual, now aren't they, Annette?"
Annette giggled. "Very ordinary," she answered, "and they happen to be blue."
"They're not ordinary. You know they aren't! It doesn't make any difference to me, of course. I'm not in love with her looks, but they're not ordinary!"
"It is not like you," said the girl, "to give up anything you want in that half-hearted way. I don't quite understand, Stuyvesant."
"I——" he began, then stopped.
"Well?" questioned Annette.