"No one else wouldn't, though."
Sam wondered. "I was always too much a coward to say a word to you," he began. And then an awful doubt sat on his soul.
"Nory," he resumed solemnly, "did ever any feller say anything to you about my—I-I-I—well, my lovin' you?"
"I should say not!" said Nora. "I'd a' slapped his face, mighty quick!
What business—"
"Not never a single one?" said Sam, his face brightening.
"No, 'ndeed. Why, I'd like to know? Did you ever ask any one to!"
"I should say not!" said Sam, with the only lie he ever told, and one most admirable. "I should say not!" he repeated with emphasis, and in tones which carried conviction even to himself.
"You'd better not!" said Nora. "I wouldn't of had you if they had!"
Sam started. "What's that, Nory?" he said. "Say that ag'in! Did you say you wouldn't of had me—you wouldn't of?" His hand found hers again.
"Yes," faltered Nora, seeing herself entrapped by her own speech.