Then they talked as they were wont to, with much coquetry on Alice's side, and on Keene's always humble submissiveness tempered with glances and sighs.

They drank tea, and Keene used the opportunity of putting down his cup to take a nearer seat.
'Miss Mutimer--' 'Yes ?' 'Is there any hope for me?
You remember you said I was to wait a month, and I've waited longer.' 'Yes, you have been very good,' said Alice, smiling loftily.
'Is there any hope for me ?' he repeated, with an air of encouragement.
'Less than ever,' was the girl's reply, lightly given, indeed, but not to be mistaken for a jest.
'You mean that?
Come, now, you don't really mean that?
There must be, at all events, as much hope as before.' 'There isn't.

There never was so little hope.

There's no hope at all, _not a scrap_!' She pressed her lips and looked at him with a grave face.

He too became grave, and in a changed way.
'I am not to take this seriously ?' he asked with bated breath.
'You are.