"Caan't say, as he never offered to."
"D'you mean he's never even kissed you, Sally?"
"Wance he axed if he might."
"'Axed'! And of course you said 'No' like any other girl would?"
"Ess, I did."
"Fancy asking!"
"What should he have done then?"
It was a dangerous inquiry on Miss Cramphorn's part, and it is within the bounds of possibility that she knew it. Had she been aware that her sole parent was glaring, like an angry monkey, from a point in the hedge within six yards of her, Sally had scarcely put that disingenuous problem. The answer came instantly. Honor's pup fell headlong into the road and greeted its descent with a yell; like lightning a pair of tweed-clad arms were round Sally, and a rough, amber-coloured moustache against her lips.
"Sir—give awver! How dare 'e! What be doin' of? You'm squeezin' me—oh——!"
There was a crash in the hedge, the bark of a dog and the oath of a man. Then Christopher felt himself suddenly seized by the collar and dragged backwards. He turned red as the sunset, swore in his turn, then realised that no less a personage than Jonah Cramphorn had been witness to his folly. Trembling with rage, Bear Down's head man accosted the squire of Little Silver.