"Let me go!" She struggled futilely in his plowman arms.
"Say you love me!"
"If you don't let me go I shall hate you!"
"I see I shall have to kiss you until you do love me."
"Yes—yes—whatever you wish me to say," she cried, suddenly freeing herself by dodging most undignifiedly out of his arms.
She stood a little way from him, panting, as was he. She frowned fiercely, then her eyes softened, became tender—just why she could not have explained. "What a dirty boy it is!" she said softly. "Go into the house and ask Williams to take you where you can make yourself presentable."
"Not I," said he, dropping into a seat. "Come, sit here beside me."
She laughed; obeyed. She even made several light passes at his wet mop of hair. She wondered why it was that she liked to touch him, where a few minutes before she had shrunk from it.
"I've just been down telling that old grandmother of yours what I thought of her," said he.
She startled. "How did you happen to go there?" she exclaimed. She forgot herself so completely that she added imperiously: "I wanted you to keep away from her until I was ready for you to go."