“Well, you dear girl, I can’t see how any Red is going to resist you. And if any does, I’ll knock his bally block off–––”
“Oh, Jim, you’re so vernacularly inclined! And you’re very flippant, too–––”
“I’m not really,” he said in a lower voice. “Whatever you care about could not fail to appeal to me.”
She gave him a quick, sweet glance, then searched the tea-tray to reward him.
As she gave him another triangle of cinnamon toast, she remembered something else. It was on the tip of her tongue, now; and she checked herself.
He had not spoken of it. Had his mother mentioned meeting her at the Red Cross? If not––was it merely a natural forgetfulness on his mother’s part? Was her silence significant?
Nibbling pensively at her cinnamon toast, Palla pondered this. But the girl’s mind worked too directly for concealment to come easy.
“I’m wondering,” she said, “whether your mother mentioned our meeting at the Red Cross.” And she knew immediately by his expression that he heard it for the first time.
“I was introduced at our headquarters by Leila Vance,” said Palla, in her even voice; “and your mother and she are acquaintances. That is how it happened, Jim.”