“Is that the reason why you think she doesn’t love me?”
“Of course! I’m in love myself. I’m simply wild about Freddy Thomas! But I’d die before I’d admit the awful fact to my dearest friend! That’s love!”
“How about your Freddy? Is he aware of your infatuation?”
“That’s the wonderful part. You see, it’s a secret. No one knows it but just Freddy and me!”
“Oh, I see! You pretend to hate Freddy but really you love him?”
“You’re a thinker! What would you say if I told you I had a cute little flask upstairs and asked you to meet me in the pantry and have a little nip just to celebrate this event? I had only one cocktail; my dearest Dada saw to that!”
“I’d meet you in the pantry and confiscate the flask!”
She regarded him fixedly for a moment, and her tone and manner changed abruptly.
“You know about life, people, things; I know you do! It’s in your eyes, and I’d know it if Millie hadn’t said so. Do you really think it is disgraceful for me to get—well, soused—as you’ve seen me several times? Dada and my aunts lecture me to death—and I hate it—but, well—what do you think?”
Her gravity demanded kindness. He felt infinitely older; she seemed very like a child tonight—an impulsive, friendly child.