"He said it," Carleigh insisted. "I'm wondering if it isn't true. You're afraid I'll carry you off by storm."
"I'm afraid you're very silly," she said, dropping the leaf and yawning without any disguise. "And I do hate to be bored."
"He said I bored you. Did you tell him that?"
"I forget. I may have. It's not unlikely."
"I'm sorry. You never gave any sign until just now. I thought you liked me no end. A woman doesn't let a man—"
She knew what was coming, and he got no farther.
"You'll bore me very much if you go into that. I'm different, you know. I thought I made that plain. I'm not at all like other women—prudish and all that. If a man can get any comfort out of holding my hand I'm not selfish enough to deny him. And you did so need comfort. It isn't at all kind of you to make more of it."
He leaned closer to her. His eyes were very big and there was an undeniable flush on his young, fair cheeks.
"But—you let me kiss you," he said, "and—and you—you—"
"You're trying to say I kissed you back, I suppose. Well, what of it?"