His companion eyed him shrewdly.
"And the girl—where does she live?" she asked, reaching for Bob's cup.
He colored with surprise.
"The girl?" he repeated, disconcerted.
"Of course there is a girl," went on the woman.
"What makes you think so?"
"Oh, Bob, Bob! Isn't there always a girl on every young man's horizon?"
"I suppose so—generally speaking," he confessed with a laugh.
"Suppose we abandon the abstract term and come down to this girl in particular," his interrogator said.
"Why are you so sure there is one?" he hedged teasingly.