She turned her face to him and smiled—and there was something about her smile which Hedrick did not like. It discomforted him; nothing more. In sunlight he would have had the better chance to comprehend; but, unhappily, this was moonshine.
“Kiss me, little boy!” she said.
“I won’t!” exclaimed the shocked and indignant Hedrick, edging uneasily away from her.
“Let’s play,” she said cheerfully.
“Play what?”
“I like chickens. Did you know I like chickens?”
The rather singular lack of connection in her remarks struck him as a misplaced effort at humour.
“You’re having lots of fun with me, aren’t you?” he growled.
She instantly moved close to him and lifted her face to his.
“Kiss me, darling little boy!” she said.