"Jerry!" said Sunny softly, her great fan touching her lips, and looking up at him with such a glance that all his best resolves to continue calm seemed threatened with panic. He said, with what he flattered was an imitation of composure:
"Lovely day—er—night. How are you?"
"I are so happy I are lig' those soap bubble. I goin' burst away."
"Yes, naturally you would be happy. Beautiful day—er—night, isn't it?"
He resolved to avoid all personal topics. He would shoot small talk at her, and she should not suspect the havoc that was raging within him.
"How are your mother?"
"Well, thank you."
"How are your frien', Miss Falconer?"
"Don't know, I'm sure."
"Hatton are tol' me all 'bout her," said Sunny.