“You won’t!” She got off his lap. “You must go.”
“Okay, but you’re coming with me. I have my car at the end of the street. We’ll go to Hank’s Bar and have a sea-food dinner and champagne.”
“No.”
But there was no conviction in her voice.
“Go and put on your prettiest dress. I’ll wait here.”
“I don’t think I should.”
He got up.
“Do you want me to carry you upstairs?”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind!”
“That’s fighting talk, baby.”