She detained my hand when I would have signalled our waiter. Her eyes, shining and solemn as a small child's, met mine.
"No, Cousin, please! I am not going home any more. At least, not alone. I asked you to bring me here where he is, because I am going to stay with my husband."
"Never," I stated firmly.
"Yes."
"Not if I have to send for your father and take you home by force."
"You cannot. I am of age."
"Phillida, I am responsible for you to your parents tonight. Let me take you home, explain things to them, and then decide your course."
"But that is what I most do not want to do!" she naïvely exclaimed.
"You will not?"
"I'm sorry. No."