"Well, he is, when we carry out our plans."

"And what are they--your plans?" asked the young man.

"Oh I never tell them."

"How then does he know whether you carry them out?"

"Well, I guess he'd know it if we didn't," said the girl.

"I remember how secretive you were last year. You kept everything to
yourself."

"Well, I know what I want," the young lady pursued.

He watched her button one of her gloves deftly, using a hairpin released
from some mysterious office under her bonnet. There was a moment's
silence, after which they looked up at each other. "I've an idea you
don't want me," said George Flack.

"Oh yes, I do--as a friend."

"Of all the mean ways of trying to get rid of a man that's the meanest!"
he rang out.

"Where's the meanness when I suppose you're not so ridiculous as to wish
to be anything more!"

"More to your sister, do you mean--or to yourself?"