"Oh, horribly lazy, dear girl," he said. "If you don't know that you don't know me. It comes on at periods. I can't yet decide whether my hard work is sheer activity of a guilty conscience, or my laziness is the collapse of a conscience too highly taxed, but the one follows the other as night follows day. I 've not done a stroke of work since getting up. This morning I washed myself and bathed—you 'll say that's a good work done. This afternoon I determined to stroll inland and see if there was anybody disposed to take pity on my sad idleness. What a pretty basket!"
Pam held it up for his inspection.
"May I lift the cover?"
Pam nodded and laughed, showing all her white, small teeth in assent.
"Bottles," said he, taking a peep under the snowy serviette. "We 're well met. Which way are you going?"
"I 'm going to Shippus," said Pam, with a little wistful accent on the "I 'm," expressive of solitude.
"The very thing," said the Spawer. "And we won't touch them till we get there. Not a drop. Will you take me with you?"
"Will you go with me?" said Pam, a light of desire suddenly dawning in her eyes at his half-bantering suggestion.
"If you 'll have me."
"I 'll have you. But perhaps you would n't care ... it's a sick call."