"What's the difference?" inquired Constance, smiling contentedly into his eyes.
Only the presence of so many people prevented her fichu from being mussed.
"There's a lot of difference," he asserted with a suddenly renewed impulse, the world being greatly changed since she had refused Gresham. "I set out to get it, and I won't give it up until four o'clock to-morrow afternoon."
"If you want it so very badly I hope that you get it then," she gently assured him.
Her shoulder happened to touch his arm and he pressed against it as hard as he could. She resisted him.
"Ready, Constance?" called Polly.
"In just a minute," Johnny took it on himself to reply. "How does the score board look by this time?"
Constance hesitated, then she blushed and drew from a drawer of the library table the score board. The neatly ruled pasteboard had been roughly torn into seven pieces—but it had been carefully pasted together again!