The girls scampered back into their dressing-room, leaving Marion and the property man together.
“Won’t you kiss me, sweetie?” said Jack Green, in an undertone, as he came closer to her. “I wasn’t joking a little bit, Ila. I’m just dying to kiss you.”
Marion looked up at the burly fellow and tried to read his face. She had disliked him from the first, but had always tried not to show it.
“I don’t think you mean to insult me, Mr. Green,” she said, after a second. “You professionals do not look upon kisses as a very serious matter, but, you see, I am a country girl, and I have been taught differently. I am saving my lips for the man whom I shall marry.”
Jack Green gave a whistle of genuine surprise, for he saw by the girl’s face that she was sincere and honest.
“Well, you are a novelty,” he said, after a minute. “Been on the stage nearly a week and don’t believe in kissing.”
“That is one reason why I shall never be an actress,” said Marion, sadly. “It does seem awful to me to be kissing and hugging so indiscriminately.”
“You’d like it if you tried it,” said Green, with a wicked leer. “Your lips were made to kiss; they are just like cherries—it’s mighty mean of you, I think, to be so stingy with them.”
“I shall kiss the man that I love,” said Marion, softly, as she attempted to quietly pass the fellow and go to her dressing-room.