"Oh, yes, Spike—er—that is, Arthur and I are quite—er—ancient cronies—pals, you know—friends, I mean—" Mr. Ravenslee was actually stammering.
"Oh, really?" she said softly; but all at once, becoming aware of the fixity of his regard, the colour deepened in her cheek, the long lashes drooped and, turning away, she went on up the stair.
"It's a long way up yet! Hadn't you better let me take it?"
"Not for worlds!" he answered.
"Isn't it getting heavier?" she enquired, as they climbed the next flight.
"Decidedly heavier!"
"Then please," said she, slackening her pace, "please let me take it!"
"On the contrary," he answered, his gaze on her slender foot and ankle, "I should like to carry it for you all my—er—ah, that is—I mean—"
Mr. Ravenslee was stammering again.
"Yes?"