"Yes, I am. Why do you say so?"
"I judge by past performances," she said, her humorous eyes on him.
"Are you going to throw past performances in my face every time I come to see you?"
"Are you coming again?"
"That isn't generous of you, Athalie—"
"I really mean it," said the girl. "Are you?"
"Coming here? Of course I am if you'll let me!"
The last time he had said, "If you want me." Now it was modified to "If you'll let me,"—a development and a new footing to which neither were yet accustomed, perhaps not even conscious of.
"C. Bailey, Junior, do you want to come?"
"I do indeed. It is so bully of you to be nice to me after—everything. And it's so jolly to talk over—things—with you."