"What?"
"I didn't say anything."
"Oh!" The red in her face ran down into the square-shape neck of her dress.
Silence.
"Aw, look what you did, Marcus! You burnt the toe of your shoe!"
"Say, Birdie, what I started to say when your mamma and papa come in—er—"
"Yes?"
"What I started to say was, so long as a fellow's got intentions it's all right for him to call on a girl—er—regular, like this." Her soft breathing answered him. "But—well, I mustn't—I ain't got the right to come round here any more."
She looked at him like a startled nymph.
"What is it?"