“Oh, don’t even think of it! You could never be like that!”
“Maybe I’m like that now!”
“You’re clear off the key!” she cried. “Of course you’re not at the end of things. It’s wicked to talk that way.”
“Do you really think that?” he asked eagerly. “Do you see any hope ahead for me?”
“You know you see it yourself! We wouldn’t any of us go on living if we didn’t see some hope ahead.” Then with greater animation she added:
“You’re not a man to sit down at the roadside and burst into tears because things don’t go to suit you! I don’t believe you’re that kind at all. If you are—well, I’m disappointed!”
“Now you’ve got me with my back to the wall!” he laughed. “No man ever wants a woman to think him a coward. I’ll keep away from all music hereafter except the snappiest jazz. But give music the benefit of the doubt; it may not have been the fiddle at all!”
“More likely you ate too much dinner!”
“Impossible! The ostrich has nothing on me when it comes to digestion. Maybe you’re the cause of my depression! Please consider that for a moment!”
“Oh, that’s terribly unkind! If I depress you this must be our last meeting.”