“Let me chip in? Will you?”
“Sure I will. Go as far as you like.”
“All right; it's a bet. Name the sum, and I'll mail it to you.”
“You'd better not mail me anything, Jim” she said.
He blenched and mumbled: “Oh, all right! I'll write you a check now.”
“Later,” she said. “I don't like to talk much about such things, please.”
“Promise me you won't go back.”
She simply waived the theme: “Let's talk of something pleasant, if you don't mind.”
“Something pleasant, eh? Then I can't ask about—him, I suppose.”
“Of course. Why not?”