"Tea, gluttonous one," he admitted, turning his big car into the park. "But, seriously, I want to ask you about your going away."
"I don't know that there's anything to say about it," said Sammy, carelessly. "I've had a wonderful time, and every one's been charming. And now I've got to go back."
"Sammy, I've no right to ask you a favor, but I've a REASON," Piet began. He halted. Both were crimson.
"Yes, yes; I know, Piet," said Sammy, fluttered.
The car slackened, stopped. Their faces were not two feet apart.
"Well! Will you let me BEG you—for your aunt, and sister, and for—well, for me, and for your own sake, Sammy—will you let me BEG you just to wait? Here, or there, or anywhere else—will you just WAIT a while?"
Sammy was silent a moment. Then—
"For what reason?" she said.
"Because you may save yourself lifelong unhappiness."
Sammy pondered, her lashes dropped, her hands clasped in her muff.