"Peter!"
"Yes, I do," he affirmed stubbornly.
Mona's cheeks were flushing until they were the color of a rose.
Suddenly her eyes flashed and she stamped a little foot.
"You don't want to kiss me or you'd ask for it!" she cried. "I always had to make you!"
It was a new thought for Peter to ponder upon. Half an hour later, when they were almost home, he came to a decision.
"I do!" he exclaimed suddenly.
"You do what?" asked Mona, who had been livelier than ever in hunting for flowers.
"You know."
"I don't."