“What a lie!” interrupted Deane, laughing.
“I swear it!” said Martin, elaborately crossing his heart. “And I dreamt also that I was very hungry. Wasn’t that strange?”
“Yes. A coincidence,” said Deane, kissing him on the lips and starting to rise.
Martin caught the back of her hair and strained her to him.
“Deane!” he cried. But she pushed against his shoulders until he let her go.
“I’m going to cook some bacon and eggs, Martin,” she said, panting. “Don’t act that way now. You said you were hungry.”
“For you,” Martin argued, stretching out his body and holding out his arms.
Deane shook her head and went into the kitchen where she could hear Martin laughing.
“He is really a terrible person,” she said to herself. But her lips trembled, and as she brushed the damp hair off her forehead the implication in her dark eyes was delightful.