Stephanie had not yet learned very much in the art of self-defense. A question to her still meant either a truthful answer or a silence. She remained silent.
"Do you, Miss Quest?" he persisted.
"Yes, I do."
"As though," he insisted, "you and I are beginning in the middle of the book of friendship instead of bothering to cut the pages of the preface?" he suggested gaily.
She laughed.
"You know," she warned him, "that I have not yet made up my mind about you."
"Oh. Concerning what are you in doubt?"
"Concerning exactly how I ought to consider you."
"As a friend, please."
"Perhaps. Are we going to dance or talk?"