"For me?" That silly blood was jumping in his brain.
"Yes," she cried. "Ally! I shall call you Ally, just like Ally Sloper! That's better than Bert."
Ally. It was not romantic, no; but still——
Gad, what a ripping little girl she was!
He wished to goodness he hadn't ever thought about that kiss. He could have been ever so much more amusing, make her like him more, if only he hadn't got that possibility before him. And yet ... perhaps it was worth while.
But Helena had no such abstract thrill to keep her eyes open and it was well after eleven. She wished now that Mr. Alison had not come in. When Hubert got back, they'd sit and have drinks. She wished that he would go. And how she longed to yawn! If only he would even be amusing....
"Have you seen my snap-shot album?" she asked. In their two years of friendship, it had never come to this before.
"No," he said. "May I?" feeling very young. He knew that he was being entertained.
She leant down wearily to get it from the bookshelfs lower row. Her smooth white neck stretched in a rounded slope before him. By Gad! His hands moved restlessly towards her. This was his great chance. She might not even ever know!
And then—she was so innocent. Suppose she boxed his ears or anything like that? Supposing she told Brett?...