She replied with a question. “Isn’t it your own philosophy,” she asked, “to take events as you find them?”
“Jerry,” he turned to her abruptly, “will you marry me?”
She moved her head away. Even the Virginia strain is susceptible to some shocks!
“What a poet you are, Richard,” she said.
“This is business,” he pursued the subject vehemently. “Will you?”
“What a business man you are not!”
“Will you?”
He caught her shoulder and tried to turn her about so that she would face him.
She remained rigid, remarking, “That’s my most sunburned shoulder, if you don’t mind.”
“Look at me!” he commanded.