"There will be. You are very young. Good-bye."
"The confusing part of it to me," he said, smiling, "is to see you so—so physically youthful with even a hint of almost childish immaturity!—and then to hear you as you are—witty, experienced, nicely cynical, maturely sure of yourself and—"
"You think me experienced?"
"Yes."
"Sure of myself?"
"Of course; with your cool, amused poise, your absolute self-possession—and the half-disdainful sword-play of your wit—at my expense—"
She halted beside the sea-wall, adorably mocking in her exaggerated gravity.
"At your expense?" she repeated. "Why not? You have cost me something."
"You said—"
"I know what I said: I said that we might become friends. But even so, you have already cost me something. Tell me"—he began to listen for this little trick of speech—"how many men do you know who would not misunderstand what I have done this evening? And—do you understand it, Mr. Hamil?"