'On the level,' Mr Shute assured her.
Maud laid down her orange-sticks.
'Don't be silly,' she said. 'There—I've finished.'
'I've not,' said Mr Shute. 'Not by a mile. Say!'
'Well?'
'What do you do with your evenings?'
'I go home.'
'Sure. But when you don't? It's a poor heart that never rejoices. Don't you ever whoop it up?'
'Whoop it up?'
'The mad whirl,' explained Mr Shute. 'Ice-cream soda and buck-wheat cakes, and a happy evening at lovely Luna Park.'