“True that everybody says so,” added Charlie. “Why do you turn down your sleeves?”
“How funny I must have looked, sprawling on the bank like that!” she remarked.
“Awful!” said Charlie, sitting down.
She looked at him with uneasiness in her eye.
“Nothing but an ankle, I swear,” he answered.
She blushed and smiled.
“I think you should whistle, or something, as you come.”
“Not I,” said Charlie, with decision.
Suddenly she turned to him with a serious face, or one that tried to be serious.
“Why do you come?” she asked.