"Shell peas—Eustace!" she said. Chetwood ground a set of perfect teeth.
"You want to drive me crazy, I see that," he said. "You're too dangerous to be running around loose. You need a firm hand—like mine. Now—"
What followed was very bad for the peas. Some minutes later Miss Jean, raising hands to a flushed face and sadly tilted hat, regarded them in dismay.
"Now see what you've done!"
Chetwood grinned. "Will you carry sweet peas?" he asked. "If we are married early in September—"
"September!" Miss Jean gasped. "I couldn't think of such a thing, Bil—ly!"
"You can when you get used to it," Chetwood assured her. "Like getting into hot water, you know."
"It may be a good deal like it," Miss Jean observed reflectively.
"Eh! Oh, I didn't mean that."
"I know you didn't, but it might be true, all the same. We can't be married for a long time."