"You asked me to remind you of something you wanted to say to me, Philip," she said.
Philip looked up from his book amiably.
"Yes, there was," he said encouragingly, if somewhat vaguely. "Thank you for aminding me. I just wanted to find out—if you're sure you don't mind telling me—why you never make a fuss over John. You know, people that marry each other do. I saw two once—ever so long ago, but I know they did. Lots."
Joy blushed, but when you've come to Arcady for only a month, and it really doesn't matter afterwards, you're very irresponsible.
"Why, you see, Philip, the girl isn't supposed to start making the fusses. You'd better ask John about it—some other time—" she added hastily.
But as she spoke she had to hold her lips hard to keep them straight, and looked out of the corner of one black-lashed eye at John, sitting at his ease on Philip's other side. She had never found him at a loss, and she desired, most unfairly, to see what he would do with this impertinence.
"Why don't you, John?" inquired Philip inevitably.
Joy had been so sure John would get out of it with his usual immovable poise that her own remarks hadn't occurred to her in the light of provocation. But Dr. Hewitt evidently looked at it that way, because what he said was quite terrifyingly simple:
"If you'll move a little, Philip."
Philip courteously shoved himself back on the floor from between them, and for the second time in her life Joy found herself being kissed by a man.