“Well, what do you say to a night of it? I find it’s a dull world, Moira. You may have more money than I have, and it may bore you to do the bright lights ... but that’s my form of entertainment. However, I’m only going to do what you say. It’s your night. But I don’t imagine you want me to take you to church!”
“I haven’t money,” she answered, smiling. “I never have a night of it, Rob. I’d love one.”
“Good! Come on.”
“No. I want you to wait here while I change. These clothes won’t do.”
“Just as you say. But can’t I take you—wherever it is you go to change your clothes?”
“What’s the use?” she queried, tentatively, as much to herself as to him. “No, I’d rather you wouldn’t.”
“Just as you say.”
“Rob, you’re a dear. In fifteen minutes I’ll be back. Meantime you talk to Sophie. Oh, Sophie,” she called, and while she waited for Sophie to come, she added, “Sophie will like you fine. She might even put you on the poor list.”
“What’s that?”
“Sophie has a sliding scale of prices. But that’s a secret.”