“Here’s turnips and little carrots, and a right early stick of celery.”
“I’ll pay you double for each, and throw a kiss in for interest, Betty.”
She backed a step or two.
“Will you please not to talk like that?”
“I will please; I will please. Deeds are better than words.”
She made as if to run from him; but pulled herself up and stood still with eyes full of trouble.
His blood raced in his veins. She looked a very Andromeda—warm and winning and pathetic. He went a hurried pace, slid his arm about her, and kissed her lips softly. The moment he had done it, he was sorry.
She never moved, panting where she stood.
“I hope you will be ashamed,” she said, with a little breaking sob.
He answered humbly: “I am, Betty—there, I am;” and gave her a glance of remorse.