"Yes." He took the hand. "And you're Miss Parmenter?"
"Yes; I'm Cissie. You know, Mr. Scott, I'm a social outcast for the afternoon."
"It wouldn't strike one as having weighed on your spirits."
"Buoyed up by the prospect of meeting you. Aren't you appalled at having a total stranger on your hands all afternoon?"
"On the contrary, I'm thrilled," he returned with the conventional answer.
She let her slow gaze sweep over him estimatingly. "You're not a bit like I figured out," she murmured, having decided upon the direct-personality gambit, as promising the best and promptest returns.
"No? Well, youth survives these disappointments."
"Fishing," she retorted. "No; I shan't tell you how much nicer you are than the prospectus. What are you going to do with me?"
"Whatever you permit."