"Do all the other boys you know make a noise like that, and call it whistling?"
He looked at her again, but he attempted no reply; he continued to whistle. Presently Frances came towards them, down one of the side paths. Dorothy waited for her; Jim strolled on, whistling as he went. When she came to Dorothy, Frances glanced at his back, as he went whistling on.
"Has Jim been entertaining you?"
"Very much--more even than he meant."
"Isn't he droll?"
"Extremely--I never thought anyone could have been so droll."
Frances surveyed her friend with doubt in her eye.
"Have you and he been having a discussion?"
"I don't know that it can be called a discussion; he's so droll. Frances, are all boys like Jim?"
Frances looked round as if she were afraid of eavesdroppers; then said, in lowered tones, as if she were delivering herself of an announcement of the most mysterious and amazing significance: