"That's not very sociable," she laughed.
"Let's have the beer then," he said.
She threw herself back languidly in one of the big dining room chairs when she had brought the drinks and some Swiss cheese and crackers, and said: "I think you'll find some cigarettes on the table in the corner if you like."
He struck her a match and she puffed her cigarette comfortably. "I suppose you find it lonely up here away from all your friends and companions," she volunteered.
"Oh, I've been sick so long I scarcely know whether I have any."
He described some of his imaginary ailments and experiences and she listened to him attentively. When the beer was gone she asked him if he would have more but he said no. After a time because he stirred wearily, she got up.
"Your mother will think we're running some sort of a midnight game down here," he volunteered.
"Mother can't hear," she said. "Her room is on the third floor and besides she doesn't hear very well. Dave don't mind. He knows me well enough by now to know that I do as I please."
She stood closer to Eugene but still he did not see. When he moved away she put out the lights and followed him to the stairs.
"He's either the most bashful or the most indifferent of men," she thought, but she said softly, "Good-night. Pleasant dreams to you," and went her way.