"H'm. Do you like him to come marching through your house?"
"Why not? He's an old friend of ours."
"He seems to be! You were in a hurry to get away from me, I noticed, and then you have to waste time mooning with him in the twilight."
"He wasn't there, George." She laid the back of her hand against her forehead. "I watched him out of sight."
"What for?"
"He looked so lonely, going home to—that. Are you always going to be jealous of any one who speaks to me? It's rather tiring."
"Are you tired?"
"Yes," she said with a jerk, and pressed her lips together. He pulled her to his knee, and she put her face against his strong, tanned neck.
"Well," he said, "what's this for?"
"Don't tease me."