“Do you,” he replied, tilting his hat, stirred.
“And generally you do, you know,” she smiled.
“I s’ll have to have a try,” he said, rather tensely gallant.
“What?” she asked brightly.
“To talk nice to you,” he said. Frances coloured furiously, bent her head for a moment, then laughed gaily, as if she liked this clumsy hint.
“Eh now, you mind what you’re saying,” cried Anne, giving the young man an admonitory pat.
“You wouldn’t have to give yon mole many knocks like that,” he teased, relieved to get on safe ground, rubbing his arm.
“No indeed, it died in one blow,” said Frances, with a flippancy that was hateful to her.
“You’re not so good at knockin’ ’em?” he said, turning to her.
“I don’t know, if I’m cross,” she said decisively.