"I'd say I had a sore finger."
"We couldn't both say we had sore fingers. Besides, they could see we hadn't."
"We might both have lame wrists, if we had been doing the same thing, rowing or playing tennis."
"It would look rather suspicious."
"Wouldn't it be better to look a little suspicious than to tie yourself up for life that way, or run the chance of it? I know who you want to shake hands with. That Reynolds boy."
"I don't want to shake hands with anybody," Peggy said. "We may like Tom and Bill a good deal better before the summer is over, though."
"They really are quite nice," Elizabeth reflected.
"Mr. Chambers is trying to get us to ride home in the front seat, with the chauffeur. He says the front seat is the most comfortable in the car, and was designed for three. I told him I'd think it over."
"I don't see what difference it makes now. He's talking to her alone, anyway."
"I think it's a terrible responsibility. They are both old enough to be married, and they ought to be old enough to know just what they want to do, instead of keeping a couple of kids—I mean children—worried to death all the time."