“I say, won’t it be ripping when the summer comes along,” he said, as they drove along on the top of a ‘bus to Soho — she had herself suggested that they should not be so extravagant as to go by cab. “We shall be able to spend every Sunday on the river. We’ll take our luncheon in a basket.”
She smiled slightly, and he was encouraged to take her hand. She did not withdraw it.
“I really think you’re beginning to like me a bit,” he smiled.