"It's too late for that, Helen. You have given me rights and I claim them." Winston's voice was decided.
"You are harking back to barefoot rights. You perhaps remember that Uncle Sid said that these were only letters of introduction to shoes and stockings."
"Yes. And I humbly present them." Winston replied in the forced humor of Helen's words.
"But," protested Helen, "I have put away childish things, bare feet and all. See!" She thrust out a booted foot from beneath her skirt.
"That's only a boot, and I'm not in it."
"You're getting childish, Ralph, so you will have to go with the rest."
"I am willing, so long as I go with the foot."
Helen was walking slowly up the steep bank and through a thicket of scrubby pine. Uncle Sid had disappeared from sight. Winston laid a detaining hand on her arm.
"Wait, Helen, I have a great many things to say to you."
"This is a pleasure trip, Ralph. You can say things at the office." She turned and took a step forward, but only a step. Winston's hand was gentle but firm. Helen seated herself on a mat of pine needles. Her face was flushed with resentment. Was it resentment?