She gazed at him frankly.
"You like me?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you want me to kiss you?"
"I don't know. It makes me—dislike you."
He released her. She laid her hand on his arm eagerly. "Please—" she implored. "I don't mean to hurt you. I wouldn't offend you for anything. Only—when you ask me a question—mustn't I tell you the truth?"
"Always," he said, believing in her, in spite of the warnings of cynical worldliness. "I don't know whether you are sincere or not—as yet. So for the present I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." He stood back and looked at her from head to foot. "You are beautiful!—perfect," he said in a low voice. He laughed. "I'll resist the temptation to kiss you again. I must go now. About your father—I'll see what can be done."
She stood with her hands behind her back, looking up at him with an expression he could not fathom. Suddenly she advanced, put up her lips and said gravely,
"Won't you kiss me?"
He eyed her quizzically. "Oh—you've changed your mind?"