He opened his throttle, as he spoke, and the car responded. Sally shook her head, decidedly.
"No, no—I'm not going. I told Jo I'd be back in five minutes with the big pail Mrs. Hill said we might take for the lemonade."
"They won't need lemonade for two hours yet. Come on—I want company."
"Slow down, please," requested Sally, for the car was already approaching the farm house which was her destination. But instead of slowing down Jarvis deliberately increased his speed.
"I'm in the habit of doing most things you ask me to," said he, "but this time I'm going to have my way. There are plenty of people there to finish it all, this morning. I'll have you back before they miss you." And the car shot by the Hill farm house at a pace which supported his promise.
Sally sat back silently. Although Jarvis went on talking about various things she did not reply, and her silence lasted until, having gone a mile on his way, Jarvis slowed down a little and turned to look at her.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "You're certainly not angry with me for running away with you?"
She nodded, looking straight ahead. This was not like Sally, who, though she possessed plenty of spirit, was seldom known to sulk.
"Well, I'm sorry if you are—but not sorry I ran away with you. You can talk to me or not, but you can't get away. I'm in too much of a hurry to have time to take you back, so I can keep you to myself for one straight half-hour. And that's—whether you know it or not—more than I've had for a month—six weeks—two months."
This declaration unlocked Sally's lips. "How absurd," said she, still gazing straight ahead.