"Not I! Come, let's sit down and have a quiet little talk—we don't often get the chance."
"Mr. Garratt, please—please go away," she said, "why should you try to annoy me as you do. You came here to see Hannah—"
"Well I don't come now to see Hannah—"
"Then you had better stay away—"
"I should like to stay away if I had you with me. Look here, don't cut up rusty or be silly. I'm not a bad sort of chap, you know," and he tugged at his mustache; "lots of girls have rather fancied me, but I've never cared a bit for one of them, though I've chaffed them a little now and then, because I've liked to make them mad."
"I don't care what you like, and I want you to go away."
"But I mean business this time, give you my word I do. I'm awfully fond of you and I'll tell 'em so when we get back if you'll say it's all right—"
"It's not all right!" Margaret cried, passionately.
"Well, you needn't take on so—you're awfully pretty." He went a step nearer. "I say, give me a kiss to go on with."