And her eyes looked at me through those drooping lashes—oh, such a way!
"Oh, no—I assure—certainly not," I stammered hastily. Dash it, I never was so rebuked and mortified in all my life. What an ass I had been to seem to notice at all!
She looked troubled. "Say, do you mind my wearing them?" she inquired.
"I? Certainly not—well, I should say not!" I retorted, almost with indignation.
"Sure?" By Jove, what ripping eyes she had!
"Of course not!" emphatically.
Her sunny head nodded satisfaction. "That's all right, then. I was afraid you wouldn't like it—afraid you would think I was acting a little free. But your man Jenkins—isn't that his name?—said he thought you would like for me to wear them."
I gasped.
"Jen—what's that?" I was amazed, indignant at Jenkins' effrontery. "He—he suggested that you wear—er—these?"
She nodded, her glorious eyes shining wistfully.