“Ra—ther!”
“Shame to debar you,” he said, almost with tenderness.
“Smoke with me.”
He offered her the cigarette from his lips. She was surprised, and exceedingly excited by his tender tone. She took the cigarette.
“I’ll make a heifer—like Mrs. Daws,” she said.
“Don’t call yourself a cow,” he said.
“Nasty thing—let me go,” she exclaimed.
“No—you fit me—don’t go,” he replied, holding her.
“Then you must have growed. Oh—what great hands—let go. Lettie, come and pinch him.”
“What’s the matter?” asked my sister.