"Fir balsam, Edna!" exclaimed Dunham with sudden scorn. "What she has been after is herbs and simples for the caldron. I've always yearned to know what a simple is. Here is my grand opportunity." The young man came toward the girl with outstretched hands. Sylvia stepped back.
"Don't touch this bag, Mr. Dunham," she said, her fingers closing more tightly upon it.
He laughed and seized the case.
Her lips set and her eyes dilated. "I mean it!" she exclaimed. "Don't touch it."
Her face had changed to intense seriousness, and under her flashing gaze his laughter died.
"Just a peep," he said in surprise.
"No, no," cried Sylvia acutely.
He could see that her breath was coming fast, and Edna observed it also, looking on at the little scene with a sense of perplexity and disapproval.
Dunham dropped his hands, and there was a disarming break in the girl's voice as she thanked him and ran into the house.
She gave Edna a look as she passed, and brief as it was there was an appeal and a confiding in that look.