Hers did not move.
His fingers slipped under hers, ready to raise her hand.
"That last night in Riceville, Mollie June, I kissed your--glove. To-night I want to kiss your hand--to make me yours--if you should need me."
She did not draw her hand away, but she said:
"You oughtn't to--now--Mr. Merriam."
The formal name by which she had continually addressed him pricked.
"Won't you call me 'John,' Mollie June, just for this quarter of an hour before the Mayor comes?"
"Oh, the Mayor!" she cried in alarmed remembrance.
"Call me 'John,' dear--for fifteen minutes!"
In his voice and eyes were both entreaty and command, and Mollie June could not resist them.