“I don’t mean a handsome one. I mean a plain, little gold one; just a band and worn on this finger.”
He designated the third finger. June understood.
“Oh, Uncle Jim!” she said, trying to pull her hand away, blushing and rebellious.
The Colonel held it tight, feeling the opportunity too valuable to be trifled with.
“And Rion Gracey to put it on,” he added.
Her answer came almost angrily as she turned away her face.
“Not for a moment.”
“No, for a lifetime.”
There was no reply and the Colonel loosed her hand. She pushed it back into her glove saying nothing. As she began to fasten the buttons he said:
“Do you often meet Barclay when you are out walking, as you did this afternoon?”