“If you haven’t learned yet, I’ll slap you again.”
“No, you won’t; I’ll hold your hands next time.”
“There isn’t going to be any ‘next time.’ The idea!”
“Iris! Please don’t go away! Wait a minute—I want to talk to you.”
“It’s too bad it’s so one-sided,” remarked Iris, with a sidelong glance.
“Look here!”
“Well, I’m looking, but so much green—the grass—and the shrubbery, you know—and all—it’s hard on my eyes.”
“We’re cousins, aren’t we?”
Iris sat down on the bench beside him, evidently struck by a new idea. “I hadn’t thought of it,” she said conversationally. “Are we?”