“Now, what about this bottle that you made me get out, eh? Where are the glasses?”
He found two in the cupboard of the carved walnut sideboard, and poured a liberal allowance of port from the bottle into each.
“Oh, I couldn’t, Doctor! You must excuse me, really you must. I simply couldn’t.”
“Oh, couldn’t you, really, awfully, truly couldn’t?” he mimicked in exaggerated falsetto. “Well, you’ve got to—so that’s that!”
“Who says so?”
“I say so. I. Moi. ‘Je,’ replies I, knowing the language. Come along now, be a good girl.”
He laid his big coarse hand on hers, and at the contact the familiar thrill of sensuous excitement and pleasure ran through her.
“Are you going to drink it?” he said masterfully.
“Oh, I suppose I must try it. I’ve never tasted wine before,” Elsie added truthfully.
“High time you began, then.”