was something rather irresistible about this man's cool self-possession.
He seemed to assume that a thing must of necessity be right, since he
chose to do it.

She looked up and met his eyes watching her with a glint of amusement in
their depths.

"No, it isn't quite proper," he agreed, answering her unspoken thought.
"But I've never bothered about that if I really wanted to do a thing.
And don't you think"--still with that flicker of laughter in his
eyes--"that it's rather ridiculous, when two human beings are shut up in
a box together for several hours, for each of them to behave as though
the other weren't there?"

He spoke half-mockingly, and Diana, felt that within himself he was
ridiculing her prim little notions of conventionality. She flushed
uncomfortably.

"Yes, I--I suppose so," she faltered.

He seemed to understand.

"Forgive me," he said, with a sudden gentleness. "I wasn't laughing at
you, but only at all the absurd conventions by which we cut ourselves off
from many an hour of pleasant intercourse--just as though we had any too
many pleasures in life! But if you wish it, I'll go back to my corner."

"No, no, don't go," returned Diana hastily. "It--it was silly of me."

"Then we may talk? Good. I shall behave quite nicely, I assure you."