I suppose you are too hungry to want to talk now." "N-no, I'm not." He began to laugh: "What's the matter, Valerie?
What is on your mind?
Have you any serious fidgets, or are you just a spoiled, pretty girl ?" "Spoiled, Kelly.

There's nothing really the matter.

I just felt like--what you asked me to do--" She jumped up suddenly, biting her lips with vexation: "I don't know what I'm saying--except that it's rather rude of me--and I've got to go home.

Good-night--I think my hat is in the dressing-room--" He stood uneasily watching her pin it before the mirror; he could just see her profile and the slender, busy hands white in the dusk.
When she returned, slowly drawing on her long gloves, she said to him with composure: "Some day ask me again.

I really would like it--if you would." "Do you really think that you could stand the excitement of taking a cup of weak tea with me," he said, jestingly--"after all those jolly dinners and suppers and theatres and motor parties that I hear about ?" She nodded and held out her hand with decision: "Good-night." He retained her hand a moment, not meaning to--not really intending to ask her what he did ask her.