"That is charming of you."
"It's honest. I had no desire to meet the type of man I supposed you to be. Am I too frank?"
"No, indeed," he said, laughing, "but I'm horribly afraid that I really am the kind of man you imagined me."
"You are not."
"How do you know?"
"No," she said, shaking her pretty head, "you can't be."
He said, quoting her own words amiably: "I'm merely one of the necessary incidents of any social environment—like flowers and champagne——"
"Mr. Quarren!"
In her distress she laid an impulsive hand on his sleeve; he lifted it, laid it across the back of his own hand, and bowing, saluted it lightly, gaily.