Though she flushed a little she kept her poise admirably.
"I suppose that is part of my interest," she admitted.
"I can think of a great many ways of saying it," said Donnegan. "I am the dry desert, you are the rain, and yet I remain dry and produce no grass." "A very pretty comparison," said the girl with a smile.
"A very green one," and Donnegan smiled. "I am the wind and you are the wild geese, and yet I keep on blowing after you are gone and do not carry away a feather of you."
"Pretty again."
"And silly. But, really, you are very kind to me, and I shall try not to take too much advantage of it."
"Will you answer a question?"
"I had rather ask one: but go on."
"What made you so dry a desert, Mr. Donnegan?"
"There is a very leading question again."