“I don’t have to,” she said.
“No,” despairingly, “you don’t have to.’
“Because—because—I do.”
The ambiguity of this might have been mystifying to any but a drowning man ready to clutch at a straw. Kenneth was raised to a seventh heaven of bliss and promptly kissed her; at which she blushed furiously and pushed him away.
“You must not believe everything I say,” she protested.
“But I do and I want to and I shall,” exultantly. “Oh, my dear, my dear, will you say it all over again?”
“Certainly not,” with pretended severity. And then with a light happy laugh, “Do you remember how I snubbed you on the street corner the day you met me at Dr. Ware’s?”
“Do I? Well, I should say I did! But you were even worse at Jack’s. You plunged me into the depths of despair, from which I never should have arisen if you hadn’t been so charming at Mrs. Lennox’s musicale. That night I began to take notice again, as it were.”
“Notice of Jessie Davis? I heard you were in love with her.”
“As if I had eyes for any one but you! I used to fairly haunt dear old Jack’s place in the hope of running across you, but you always managed to elude me.”