"I am to make a dress."
"You!"
"I have made them before now," she said indignantly.
"But at such a time!"
"It is a black dress," she cried, "I don't have one, I am to make it out of mamma's."
He said nothing for some time, then "When did you think of this?"
"I thought of it weeks ago, I bought crape at the corner shop to be ready, and—"
She thought he was looking at her in horror, and stopped abruptly. "I don't care what you think," she said.
"What I do think," he retorted, taking up his hat, "is, that you are a most exasperating lassie. If I bide here another minute I believe you'll get round me."
"I don't want to get round you."