Miss Maggie caught her breath and turned away again.
“Don’t you care—a little?”
The red crept up Miss Maggie’s neck to her forehead but still she was silent.
“If I could only see your eyes,” pleaded the man. Then, suddenly, he saw Miss Maggie’s face in the mirror. The next moment Miss Maggie herself turned a little, and in the mirror their eyes met—and in the mirror Mr. Smith found his answer. “You do care—a little!” he breathed, as he took her in his arms.
“But I don’t!” Miss Maggie shook her head vigorously against his coat-collar.
“What?” Mr. Smith’s clasp loosened a little.
“I care—a great deal,” whispered Miss Maggie to the coat-collar, with shameless emphasis.
“You—darling!” triumphed the man, bestowing a rapturous kiss on the tip of a small pink ear—the nearest point to Miss Maggie’s lips that was available, until, with tender determination, he turned her face to his.
A moment later, blushing rosily, Miss Maggie drew herself away.
“There, we’ve been quite silly enough—old folks like us.”