"That's the way you used to talk."

"Well, I haven't changed."

"And Miss Francie--has she?"

"Well, you'll see," said Delia Dosson, beginning to draw on her gloves.

Her companion watched her, leaning forward with his elbows on the arms
of his chair and his hands interlocked. At last he said interrogatively:
"Bon Marche?"

"No, I got them in a little place I know."

"Well, they're Paris anyway."

"Of course they're Paris. But you can get gloves anywhere."

"You must show me the little place anyhow," Mr. Flack continued
sociably. And he observed further and with the same friendliness: "The
old gentleman seems all there."

"Oh he's the dearest of the dear."

"He's a real gentleman--of the old stamp," said George Flack.

"Well, what should you think our father would be?"

"I should think he'd be delighted!"