“I didn’t make a fuss. I just thought I could slip out—”
“Well, you couldn’t. And it’s raining very hard again. And I’m going.”
“Oh, don’t! You’ll get drenched.”
“Of course. But I can’t bear to have all that sap diluted.”
“It doesn’t run at night. You said it didn’t.”
“You said it did.”
“But I don’t really know. You know best.”
“Why didn’t you think of that sooner? Anyway, I’m going.”
“Oh, dear! You make me feel as if I’d stirred you up—”
“You have,” I interrupted, sweetly. “I won’t deny that you have stirred me up. But now that you have mentioned it”—I felt for a match—“now that you have mentioned it, I see that this was the one thing needed to make my evening complete, or perhaps it’s morning—I don’t know.”