"Like I used to feel about her mother?" The old man put a hand on Doug's arm.
Douglas nodded.
"And would it break your heart if Scott or any other man got her?"
Douglas nodded again, then rose. "I think I'll run down to see her a minute. I won't be gone long."
Mr. Fowler smiled. "Good luck to you, boy!"
"Keep your fingers crossed for me," said Doug, slamming out of the door.
Judith kept her finger in "Vanity Fair." "We were all going in a crowd," she said. "You've been cutting us a good deal lately. Why not come in out of the wet and be just one of us?"
"I want to take you, myself," insisted Douglas in a low voice. They were standing in the kitchen, with the door into the living-room closed. "I want you to wear that white dress with the thing-ma-jiggers on the waist and your hair all loose around your face. And I'm going to make love to you every minute."
His eyes were entirely earnest. Judith smiled, then drew a sudden short breath. The color deepened in her cheeks, then retreated.
"All right, Douglas! I'll go with you!" she said.