"Really?" She gave him her eyes now.
"Really," he assured her.
"Ah, I don't believe you mean that!"
"But indeed I do...."
It was not until nearly five o'clock that he was given a chance to escape. He had, even then, to refuse inflexibly an invitation to stay to supper.
Minta Lockwood—an expansive woman, generously convex—almost smothered him with appreciation of his thanks. She held his hand in a large, moist palm and beamed upon him, saying: "Now't you know the way, Mr. Duncan...."
"Yes," Blinky insisted, blinking roguishly, "drop in any time. Take pot luck. We're plain people, Mr. Duncan, but allus glad to see our friends. Drop in any time."
Josie accompanied him to the front gate, where etiquette required him to linger for a parting chat....
"Good-bye." The girl gave him her hand. "I'm real glad you came—at last."
"The pleasure has been all mine," insisted the gallant bromide, fishing the trite phrase desperately from the grey vacuity of his thoughts. "You won't forget?"