"What about it? Are you in the habit of picking up trunks like that as if they were meat platters, and girls as if they were babies? I was watching you, and you didn't even breathe hard."
"Oh, is that it?" Angus laughed. "That's nothing. Any of your brothers could handle that trunk."
"Gavin could, of course. But he's very strong."
"Well?" said Angus, smiling at her.
"Why, yes, you must be. But I've always thought of you as a boy. And I suppose you've thought of me as a gawky, long-legged girl."
"I haven't thought of you at all," Angus told her.
"Now I know I'm going to like you," she laughed. "I don't know a man—except my brothers, who of course don't count—who would have told me that."
Angus flushed, but stuck to his guns.
"Well, why should I think of you?"
"No reason. You don't know much about girls, do you?"