“Now look here, Loretta, be sensible. What is this about kisses. You haven't told me everything?”
“I—I don't want to tell you everything.”
She looked at him beseechingly in the silence that fell.
“Must I?” she quavered finally.
“You must,” he said imperatively. “You must tell me everything.”
“Well, then... must I?”
“You must.”
“He... I... we...” she began flounderingly. Then blurted out, “I let him, and he kissed me.”
“Go on,” Bashford commanded desperately.
“That's all,” she answered.