Addie got up with an indignant jerk. 'You think I'm a child to be played with!'
She turned her back upon him. His face changed instantly; he stood still a moment, admiring the magnificent pose. Then he recaptured her reluctant hand.
'Don't be jealous already, Addie,' he said. 'It's a healthy sign of affection, is a storm-cloud; but don't you think it's just a wee, tiny, weeny bit too previous?'
A pressure of the hand accompanied each of the little adjectives. Addie sat down again, feeling deliciously happy. She seemed to be lapped in a great drowsy ecstasy of bliss.
The sunset was fading into sombre greys before Sidney broke the silence; then his train of thought revealed itself.
'If you're so down on Esther, I wonder how you can put up with me! How is it?'
Addie did not hear the question.
'You think I'm a very wicked, blasphemous boy,' he insisted. 'Isn't that the thought deep down in your heart of hearts?'
'I'm sure tea must be over long ago,' said Addie anxiously.