It was Grant’s turn to be vexed now. He caught her arm and twisted it till she winced. “Say you’re sorry!”
“I won’t!”
Grant turned the supple wrist a twist farther. “Now, will you?”
“No sir, not if you twist till you break it–I won’t! I’m not going to be bullied!”
Grant began to be afraid she meant what she said. But his pride would not let him give in to a girl. “All right, little stubborn, I’ll kiss you till you do.”
As Grant loosened his hold on her wrist, Jane jerked away and fled toward the door in a panic. She was more than half afraid of Grant in this humor–and then her promise to Ernest.
“Oh, dear, I knew better than to do that, but he made me so mad!” she mourned.
Grant was close upon her. She fairly hurled herself out the door and most unexpectedly bumped into Sherm, who caught her in time to save her catapulting down the steps.
“Save the pieces, Chicken Little, what’s your hurry?”