“Never!”
“You’ll meet some other girl …”
“I’ve met every girl in the world! None of them will do!” The lightness came back into Wally’s voice. “I’m sorry for the poor things, but they won’t do! Take ’em away! There’s only one girl in the world for me—oh, confound it! why is it that one always thinks in song-titles! Well, there it is. I’m not going to bother you. We’re pals. And, as a pal, may I offer you my bank-roll?”
“No!” said Jill. She smiled up at him. “I believe you would give me your coat if I asked you for it!”
Wally stopped.
“Do you want it? Here you are!”
“Wally, behave! There’s a policeman looking at you!”
“Oh, well, if you won’t! It’s a good coat, all the same.”
They turned the corner, and stopped before a brown-stone house, with a long ladder of untidy steps running up to the front door.
“Is this where you live?” Wally asked. He looked at the gloomy place disapprovingly. “You do choose the most awful places!”