"The toast to friendship?"
"Yes; I remember it."
She touched her lips to her glass, not looking at him. He watched her. After a moment she raised her eyes, met his gaze, returned it with one quite as audacious:
"I am drinking that same toast again—after many days," she said.
"With all that it entails?"
She nodded.
"Its chances, hazards, consequences?"
She laughed, then, looking at him, deliberately sipped from her glass, the defiant smile in her eyes still daring him and Chance and Destiny together.
When he took her out she was saying: "I really can't account for my mood to-night. I believe that seeing you again is reviving me. I was beastly stupid."
"My soporific society ought to calm, not exhilarate you."