Insincerity has always been popular.
Her brows contracted as she read each reply, and I noted her breast heaving with suspense. She read them over about a dozen times, then, folding them up, handed them back with the remark, ‘I thought so!’
‘Why did you?’
‘You are all the same.’
‘But aren’t girls good at the game?’
‘Yes—some are. Others are different; at least, a few are.’
‘No, Johnnie! I like you, but I can do without you. I haven’t much admiration for that sort of thing.’
‘If I hadn’t shown them to you, you wouldn’t have known.’
‘Oh yes, I should. I know you. You are quite a nice boy, but, like all nice boys, you’ve been spoiled. Girls have thrown themselves at you, and you think you may go on like that to the end of the chapter. Nevertheless, I’m rather interested in you.’