"I don't understand."

"I wonder," she went on, still slowly, and in a voice of
reflection, "I wonder who HAS been talking about me to you, after
all? Isn't that it?"

"Not at----" he began, but checked himself and substituted
another form of denial. "Nothing is 'it.'"

"Are you sure?"

"Why, yes."

"How curious!" she said.

"Why?"

"Because all evening you've been so utterly different."

"But in this weather----"

"No. That wouldn't make you afraid to look at me all evening!"

"But I did look at you. Often."

"No. Not really a LOOK."

"But I'm looking at you now."