“Well, what on earth has that to do with it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You love me—that’s what it means.”
“Oh!”
“Yes!”
“I may have brothers—whom I call dear—and—so—get used to it—”
“Have you?” demanded Brassid, with the ferocity that came and went so quickly.
“No, sir,” she answered obediently.
“Oh, you are the most delicious being on earth!” laughed he. “And I won’t wait till we get to town!”
But Brassid had forgotten to tread, and got a generous mouthful of salt water.