"You seem to have been unfortunately precocious."
She flashed a smile at him. "Are you jealous?"
The amazing realisation came to him that he was. But he answered steadily: "What right should I have to be jealous of what you might do?"
"Suppose I want you to be?"
This he chose to disregard. "I don't believe that you understand yourself, your temperament." He was trying to hold himself to a tone of cool diagnosis. "I wish I were your Dr. Bobs for fifteen minutes."
"Well, I don't," she retorted. "Bobs's middle names are Sterling Worth; but I'd rather have you lecture me. You understand."
"I understand that you are of a very high-strung, neurotic, excitable temperament."
Gloom overshadowed her face again. "You're not telling me any news about myself."
"Then you must see how perilous it is for a girl like you to be what you call a necker."