Sincerely, PHILIP E. MILES.
Laverick felt an absurd pang of jealousy as he handed back the programme.
"I should say," he declared, "that this was simply some young man who was trying to scrape an acquaintance with you because he was or had been a friend of Morrison's."
"In that case," answered Zoe, "he is very soon forgotten."
She tore the programme into two pieces, and Laverick was conscious of a ridiculous feeling of pleasure at her indifference.
"If you hear anything more about him," he said, "you might let me know. You are a brave young lady to dismiss your admirers so summarily."
"Perhaps I am quite satisfied with one," laughing softly.
Laverick told himself that at his age he was behaving like an idiot, nevertheless his eyes across the table expressed his appreciation of her speech.
"Tell me something about yourself, Mr. Laverick," she begged.
"For instance?"
"First of all, then, how old are you?"
He made a grimace.
"Thirty-eight--thirty-nine my next birthday. Doesn't that seem grandfatherly to you?"
"You must not be absurd!" she exclaimed. "It is not even middle-aged. Now tell me--how do you spend your time generally? Do you really mean that you go and play cards at your club most evenings?"
"I have a good many friends, and I dine out quite a great deal."
"You have no sisters?"
"I have no relatives at all in London," he explained.
"It is to be a real cross-examination," she warned him.
"I am quite content," he answered. "Go ahead, but remember, though, that I am a very dull person."
"You look so young for your years," she declared. "I wonder, have you ever been in love?"
He laughed heartily.
"About a dozen times, I suppose. Why? Do I seem to you like a misanthrope?"
"I don't know," she admitted, hesitatingly. "You don't seem to me as though you cared to make friends very easily. I just felt I wanted to ask you. Have you ever been engaged?"
"Never," he assured her.
"And when was the last time," she asked, "that you felt you cared a little for any one?"
"It dates from the day before yesterday," he declared, filling her glass.
She laughed at him.
"Of course, it is nonsense to talk to you like this!" she said. "You are quite right to make fun of me."
"On the contrary," he insisted. "I am very much in earnest."
"Very well, then," she answered, "if you are in earnest you shall be in love with me. You shall take me about, give me supper every night, send me some sweets and cigarettes to the theatre--oh, and there are heaps of things you ought to do if you really mean it!" she wound up.