"He was a fine lover."
"I've something in my eye," said she, stopping.
"Perhaps I can get it," said he; "let me try."
"I'm afraid you'll hurt me," said she, looking up with a smile.
"I'll be careful."
He lifted her face a little, his fingers beneath her pretty chin. Then, taking her long, dark lashes between thumb and finger, he opened the lids.
"You are hurting," said she, soberly; and now the lashes were trying to pull free.
"I can see it," said he.
"It must be a bear—you look so frightened."
"It's nothing to be afraid of," said the boy.