"The sun is warm," she observed, driving in the pole and tying the white punt so that it could swing with the current.
She came and seated herself by Warner, smiled frankly.
"Do you know," she said, "I've never before done this for pleasure."
"What haven't you done for pleasure?" he inquired, perplexed.
"This—what I am doing."
"You mean you never before went out punting with a customer?"
"Not for the pleasure of it—only for business reasons."
He hesitated to understand, refused to, because, for all her careless freedom and her paint, he could not believe her to be merely a fille de cabaret.
"Business reasons," he repeated. "What is your business?"
"Cashier, of course."