“There is somthing feirce about black eyes,” she said, finishing the cream. “I feel this way. One cannot tell what black eyes are thinking. They are a mystery, and as such they atract me. Almost all murderers have black eyes.”
“Jane!” I exclaimed.
“They mean passion,” she muzed. “They are strong eyes. Did you ever see a black-eyed man with glasses? Never. Bab, are you engaged to Tom?”
“Practicaly.”
I saw that she wished details, but I am not that sort. I am not the kind to repeat what has been said to me in the emotion of Love. I am one to bury sentament deep in my heart, and have therfore the reputation of being cold and indiferent. But better that than having the Male Sex afraid to tell me how I effect them for fear of it being repeated to other girls, as some do.
“Of course it cannot be soon, if at all,” I said. “He has three more years of College, and as you know, here they regard me as a child.”
“You have your own income.”
That reminded me of the reason for my having sought the privasy of my Chamber. I said:
“Jane, I am thinking of buying an automobile. Not a Limousine, but somthing styleish and fast. I must have Speed, if nothing else.”
She stopped eating a caromel and gave me a stunned look.