“Why not?”
“Why, Brassid! Who ever heard of a rejected lover taking the same walks with his late beloved under the same trees by the light of the same moon?”
“Walks?” questioned Brassid, dully.
“Our swims are the same as walks to other lo—”
“Aha!” cried Brassid, “you almost said ‘lovers’!”
“Did I? How stupid of me!”
“Do you mean to say that you absolutely and positively refuse me?” shouted he, belligerently.
“Certainly not, my dear Brassid,” she hurried forth. “I can’t refuse what you haven’t offered. And, dear Brassid,” she went on caressingly, “I know that you won’t offer—because—because—”
“Out with it!” cried Brassid, still in his ferocity.
“Because I like you so—to swim with!”