"Well," he said, "I must be getting home. Won't you let me see you with that cap on?"
Sally, who betrayed no diffidence, put on the cap, and stood before a little dingy mirror with both hands raised while she pressed it down upon her gleaming hair. Then she flashed a smiling glance at him. It was quite sufficient, and as she turned again Hawtrey slipped forward as softly as he could. She swung round, however, with a flush in her face and a forceful, restraining gesture.
"Don't spoil it all, Gregory," she said sharply.
Hawtrey, who saw that she meant it—which was a cause of some astonishment to him—dropped his hand.
"Oh," he said, "if you look at it in that way I'm sorry. Good-night, Sally!"
She let him go, but she smiled when he drove away; and half an hour later she showed the cap and mittens to her mother with significant candour. Mrs. Creighton, who was a severely practical person, nodded.
"Well," she said, "he only wants a little managing if he bought you these, and nobody could say you ran after him. I wouldn't, anyway; some of them don't like it."