Elsie sensed constraint in him, too, and in sudden alarm turned and faced him. As their eyes met, both of them smiled and flushed, and Roberts slipped his arm under hers and possessed himself of her hand again.
“Did you like that?” he whispered, bending towards her.
“The picture?”
“You know I don’t mean that.”
She laughed and then nodded.
“Elsie, tell me something truly. Has any other fellow ever kissed you?”
Her first impulse was to lie glibly. Then her natural, instinctive understanding of the game on which they were engaged, made her laugh teasingly.
“That’s telling, Mr. Inquisitive.”
“That means they have. I must say, Elsie, that considering you’re only sixteen, I don’t call that very nice.”
Elsie snatched away her hand. “I get quite enough of that sort of thing at home, thank you, Mr. Norman Roberts, Esquire. There’s no call for you to interfere in my concerns, that I’m aware of.”