“Approximately, then.”
“Oh, after a year, I suppose. It’s about then that there’s a comment or two sandwiched between the red and blue decks at bridge parties.”
“And we’ve been engaged now three years. Do they ever sandwich—” 41
“How do I know. They don’t do it to one’s face.”
“But Margery—you say they made it uncomfortable for her.”
“Steve Armstrong,” the voice was intentionally severe, “what possesses you to-night? I can’t fancy what put that notion into your head.”
“You did yourself,” serenely, “just now. I never happened to stumble upon this particular continent before, and I’m intent on exploration and discovery. Honest, do they,” he made an all-inclusive gesture, “talk about you and me?”
“I tell you they don’t do those things to our faces.”
“You’re evading the question, girl Elice.”
“They’re not unpleasant intentionally.”