Rosy-cheeked Ann looked up at her escort in surprise. “Of course you do. Why?”
“No reason, except that I should prefer to do so. Cliff is such an example, you know.”
“Now when did I ever tell you that?”
“Never. You would not be so impolite, sweet cousin. I merely gathered it this summer, among the Montana wild flowers, as it were.”
“Please don’t make fun of Clifford. He does not pretend to be a saint, and I don’t like to hear you speak in that way of him!”
“I admire Mr. Hart very much.”
“Maurice! I didn’t think that you were like ‘Beano!’”
“Gracious! How to please her!”
“Some way I didn’t like your tone when you spoke of Clifford. But I’m wrong to take it up so. Please forgive me, Maurice. Maybe you can’t help it if you don’t like Clifford.”
“I never said that I didn’t like him, sweet cousin; but he likes you too well, and I fear me that you like him. See? Plain jealousy.”