“You asked me to—to kiss you!” he stammered, his color rising.
“Yes, I did. You never had kissed me before, you know, Phil.”
“You—you wanted her to see,” he asserted.
“I didn’t mind her seeing—if that’s what you mean.”
“You had no right——”
She held up her hand with a mock gesture of command.
“Don’t speak! You’ll say something you’ll regret. It’s not often I ask a man to kiss me, and when I do I expect a display of softer emotions. But anger—dismay! I’m surprised at you. You’re really quite too rustic, or is it rusty? Besides, you know, I’ve done you the greatest of favors.”
“Favors!” he exclaimed.
“Precisely. In addition to accepting your—er—fraternal benediction, I’ve succeeded in creating a diversion in the ranks of the dear enemy. Jealousy is the vinegar of the salad of love, Phil. Jane is quite sure to love you madly now.”