“No? Well then, we might have a bite together.”
Why could he never lie? How he despised himself!
“I—I can’t, Miss Lord. I have only ninety-five cents.”
He felt naked before her. A lady should blush and go away when one stood naked before her. There was Miss Lord laughing: swinging her weight back joyously on one heel the better to observe him.
“Oh, isn’t it always a joke when we find ourselves short? I understand so well. Won’t you be my guest, Mr. Markand?”
She tilted her head back. David noticed how small her bonnet was above the mass of her hair. “You know,” she went on, “it was really my invitation after all.”
“Oh—I—no—I.” Her light mood was an added weight.
She was quick to understand and to redispose her forces. “Then you must permit me to lend you five dollars. There now. I’ll be offended if you don’t.” She dug in her bag and held out a bill. “Why should you discriminate against a fellow?”
David paused long enough to try to see with what he thought her generous eyes the foolish panic he was in. He gathered himself. They both laughed. He took the bill.
“It is good of you,” he said.