Again steps and voices were heard above and Trenton looked at his watch.
“It’s eleven o’clock and Tommy and I are taking the midnight train for St. Louis,” he said. “We’ve got to beat it.”
She rose and stood beside him, sorry that the evening was so nearly over.
“I’ll always remember tonight; you’ve been awfully nice to me!” she said.
“Please don’t! If you begin thanking me I’ll know you feel I’m older than the hills. I see it all now! I made my story cover too many years!”
“Oh, that’s not it at all!” she protested. “I was just wondering how you ever crowded so much into your young life!”
“You do that sort of thing very prettily! And when you look at me like that you become dangerous.”
“You really don’t think I’m dangerous—not in the least little bit!”
“I’m not to be caught in that trap! A wise man never acknowledges to a woman that she’s dangerous. They ought to have taught you that at the university. But you’re patient! You’ve listened to me as Desdemona listened to Othello!”
“I believe,” she said daringly, tilting her head, “I believe I’d like to flirt with you—oh, just a little bit!”