“If I may——?”
“You may,” she answered, laughing softly, almost to herself, and he noticed how her smile lit up her whole face for the moment. “You’ll seem so queer down there.”
“Why?”
“Just think—but no, you couldn’t realize what I’m laughing at; you’ve never been in Kennington, and—even more likely—have never seen yourself as I see you.”
Resisting the temptation to ask her in what light she saw him, he in turn laughed as he looked down into the provocative face turned toward him.
“You’re getting better,” he said.
“Yes, thanks; the tea has done me good, and the meeting with you.”
She spoke quite frankly.
“I’m glad,” he answered, “and glad I was lucky enough to meet you.”
“What a pretty, empty phrase,” she said, with a little sigh and a droop of the corners of her mouth. “Sayings like that are the threepenny bits of conversation; they’re not worth sixpence, but they’re better than coppers. Now, I must be off.”