Arthur grinned, then suddenly his face grew a little more serious.
"I wish I were as sure as you are," he said. "I think we'll be all right, though, sooner or later."
"I'm sure of it," Estelle declared with conviction. "Why, you—"
"Why I?" asked Arthur again. He bent forward in his chair and fixed his eyes on Estelle's. She looked up, met his gaze, and stammered.
"You—you do things," she finished lamely.
"I'm tempted to do something now," Arthur said. "Look here, Miss Woodward, you've been in my employ for three or four months. In all that time I've never had anything but the most impersonal comments from you. Why the sudden change?"
The twinkle in his eyes robbed his words of any impertinence.
"Why, I really—I really suppose I never noticed you before," said Estelle.
"Please notice me hereafter," said Arthur. "I have been noticing you. I've been doing practically nothing else."
Estelle flushed again. She tried to meet Arthur's eyes and failed. She bit desperately into her pigeon drumstick, trying to think of something to say.