"
"I am sorry that you look upon it in that light," he remarked,
still without the least sign of discomposure. "We will, if you
do not mind, waive the discussion for the moment. Do you prefer
a small restaurant or a corner in a big one? There is music at
Frascati's but there are not so many people in the smaller ones."
She turned half around upon the pavement and looked at him
steadfastly. His personality was at last beginning to interest
her. His square jaw and measured speech were indices of a
character at least unusual. She recognized certain invincible
qualities under an exterior absolutely commonplace.
"Are you as persistent about everything in life?" she asked him.
"Why not?" he replied. "I try always to be consistent."
"What is your name?"
"Leonard Tavernake," he answered, promptly.
"Are you well off--I mean moderately well off?"
"I have a quite sufficient income."
"Have you any one dependent upon you?"
"Not a soul," he declared. "I am my own master in every sense of
the word."
She laughed in an odd sort of way.
"Then you shall pay for your persistence," she said, ---"I mean
that I may as well rob you of a sovereign as the restaurant
people."
"You must tell me now where you would like to go to," he
insisted. "It is getting late."
"I do not like these foreign places," she replied. "I should
prefer to go to the grill-room of a good restaurant."
"We will take a taxicab," he announced.
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