"Yes; anyone could tell that you don't fully belong with us. You see, every girl has her special line to show, nowadays."
"Like a commercial traveller?"
"You've said it! It's whatever is supposed to fit her personality best. You go to a character reader—there's a wiz in Carnegie Hall, who lays you out a complete map for twenty-five dollars—and she sizes you up and lays out your line for you."
"Is this line, perhaps, equipped with a hook?"
"Eh? Oh, sure!" Cissie laughed. "Hook and bait. Yes; it's a fish-line, all right."
"And what is your specialty?"
"Haven't I shown it plain enough? It's the lively and risky with just enough restraint to lead 'em on. I'm supposed to have passionate eyes, you know."
Scott laughed aloud. "I like you, Cissie."
"It's about time!" she exclaimed. "You haven't, up to now. And I've been working pretty hard on you."
"That's very shrewd of you. I mean it, this time. It's realler than the thing we've been playing at."