"You! How absurd! Distinguished you, saying that to a nouveau like me, when there would have been no me except for you."
"That's complicated, but delightful of you, no matter how untrue it is."
"It is true. If you hadn't happened to like the first story I happened to write, we would never be here discussing my first play, which Mr. Frohman happens to want. It's all you."
Mr. Strong suddenly leaned over her, so that she felt his breath on her hair.
"Francesca, if it only were all me," he said with unexpected passion. She looked up at him, frightened, amazed.
"Oh, you mustn't do that!" she breathed. He straightened up at once.
"You're right. I beg your pardon. 'Twas just a slip."
He took a turn up and down the room, and when he came back to the hearth rug he spoke in his usual matter-of-fact way.
"I am to make an appointment, then, for you, with Mr. Frohman, at his office?"
"If you will," she answered gratefully.