"That's a point of view worth considering," I assented.
"But I suppose she will never even know my name," she mused.
"Most likely not," was my complacent answer.
Whereupon she let me have her thrust with a little purr of amusement in her voice.
"Any more than I shall know what nice girls prepared you for me."
"Touché," I conceded with a laugh. "I didn't know you were the kind of young woman that lays traps for a fellow to tumble into."
"And I didn't know you were a war-worn veteran toughened by previous campaigns," she countered gaily. "You've been very liberally educated, didn't you say?"
"No, I didn't say. This is how I put it to myself: A boy owes something to the nice girls all about him. One would not like to think, for instance, that the youths of Tennessee had been so insensible as never to have felt a flutter when your long lashes drifted their way," I diplomatically suggested.
"How nicely you wrap it up," she said with her low, soft laugh. "And must my heart have fluttered, too, for them? Unless it has, I won't be properly educated for you, shall I?"
"Ah, that's the difference. You are born perfect lovers, but we have to acquire excellence through experience."