“Never mind. I’m going to take you home.”
“You are not! I won’t go home. You sit right there and explain yourself.”
“Oh, darling, please let me take you home! Of course I understand. I should have thought of it right away. An ugly old thing like me....”
“Oh, Arthur!” She cries out in pain. “Arthur, how could you think of such a thing! Look at me!”
But don’t. She turns your face toward hers by gripping your ears. You are crying, and looking at you she begins to cry too, in pity.
“Arthur, how could you? How could you hurt me so?”
Put your arm around her and pat her on the shoulder.
“Never mind, Ann. Never mind, old girl, it’s all right.”
“Kiss me,” she murmurs, from the depths of your coat-collar.
“No.”