“Perhaps. But, remember, she and Bob together were goin’ to give you that picture for your birthday. It was to be a surprise for you.... It would have been, too, I guess.”
She laughed at the idea. He put his hand back into the pocket.
“Well, suppose I do get down on my knees to her?” he said, grudgingly. “What then? That won’t be keeping her away from him. How am I going to do that?”
“I don’t know exactly. I think I know what I should do. First I should go with her to Bob’s studio, or whatever he calls it, and see that picture.”
He leaned back to stare at her. “What are you trying to do?” he demanded. “Make fun of me?”
“No, of course I’m not. I’m tryin’ to show you how to save the pieces, now that you’ve smashed the pitcher. Tell her you would like to see the paintin’ and ask her to take you there to see it. Pretend you think it is splendid, no matter whether you do or not. When they give it to you, take it and be thankful.”
He broke out with an indignant growl.
“You’re crazy!” he vowed. “Do you suppose I am going to let that fellow give me presents? Be reasonable.”
“I am. Esther is givin’ it to you; he has only given it to her.”
“It is the same thing. You know it.”