"Oh, he'd get there if he wanted to," she answered, the fingers still beating time.
"Easy enough to talk, but we may as well look at the practical side of it. He'll have to."
"If you mean his money, that's very nice of you, George, but I thought that was all arranged? Or do you mean that as he used to write to me before he may do so again? If that's it you can hand his money over to me."
"I wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking——"
But she interrupted me vivaciously. "Oh, look at that woman in the cloak just getting up! That's rather a wrap, isn't it? And I wonder whether I could wear those shoes!... Now that's what I call having the best of both worlds, George. She's all the advantages of that flapper with the nice fair-haired boy there—the one smoking a cigarette and showing her garters—as well as being a woman. But perhaps she isn't your type. Men do run to types, don't they?... George, you're not listening. I asked you whether men ran to types."
"If you mean do I, you've had most of my time lately."
"Don't be silly. I mean women men are in love with. Or are you all ready to toy with anything that comes along?"
"I thought that you said the end of that man was that he knew nothing about women."
"Oh, what's the use of telling me what I used to say!" She tossed the little cap with the owl's ears. "At any rate I don't talk the same folly twice. Life's too short. Do you like my hat?"
"Very charming."