“Oh, no, sir!” and Patty looked at him with big, round eyes.
“Why not?”
“I don’t like to dance with a man who doesn’t like me.”
“I do like you, you silly child.”
“Oh, no, you don’t, either! and I’m not a silly child.”
“And you’re not enjoying this dance with me?”
“Not a bit!”
“Then there’s no use going on with it,” and releasing her, Philip tucked one of her hands through his arm, and calmly marched her into the conservatory. The seat under the palms was vacant, and as she took her place in one corner of it, he poked one or two cushions deftly behind her back and made her entirely comfortable. Then he sat down beside her.
“Now,” he commanded, “say you’re sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”