He was thinking that if he refused her irrevocably and unconditionally he might not be asked to the house again. And he liked going on account of Pickering, Mrs. Pickering, and the house.
“Look here,” he said after a moment’s pause. “Let’s forget all about this. I don’t think your mother would like it.”
“You think so much of my mother,” she answered.
“Well, I should think so, don’t you?”
“Oh yes, Clifford, I love her, of course.”
“Well, then, don’t you want me to like her?”
“Oh yes; but not much more than me.”
“Oh, well, I can’t help that,” he said very decidedly.
She looked subdued.
“Then you do like me a little bit too, Clifford?”