"Thanks."
"Then you sing like an angel."
"Please don't! That's what they all say."
"Ah, the singing has a lot to do with it; you oughtn't to sing so well; you should cultivate less expression. And then—I'm afraid you like attention."
"Well, perhaps I do."
"And I'm sure it must be very hard not to be attentive to you," said Nunthorp, with a rather brutal impersonality; "for I should fancy you have a way—quite unconscious, mind—of giving your current admirer the idea that he's the only one who ever held the office!"
"Thanks," said she, with perfect good-humour; "that's a very pretty way of putting it."
"What, Midge?"
"That I'm a hopeless flirt—which is the root of the whole matter, I suppose!"