"I'll answer that question when you answer one of mine," I told him.
"Agreed," he said. "But it would be better, perhaps, if you put this on!"
He was holding my shoe in his hand.
"What were you doing on that street when you stopped there beside me?" I asked, as I took the suede shoe from him and slipped my foot into it.
He laughed again. I couldn't help envying him his ease and coolness, though I couldn't quite fathom the source of his amusement.
"I was decorously on my way to the Harraton, where my present apartment happens to be, and whither we are at this moment duly proceeding."
"And you think I make a habit of eating supper with men in their apartments?" I inquired, with dignity.
"Why not, if duly chaperoned?" he asked, with a pointed stare at the black bag which I held on my knees.
"Who's the chaperon?" I asked.
He stiffened a little at the curtness of my tone.
"I may be outrageous, you know, but my family really consider themselves irreproachable."
I felt that he was making fun of me, in some manner, but I couldn't see any way of getting back at
