"Well, merely that you wouldn't see me again."
His look too rested on her hands. "Why?" he asked.
She straightened herself. "Oh, never mind about it. I'm going now."
He coloured a little. "But I say—Louie—you don't mind my calling you Louie, do you? I used to, you know.—I should like to see you again."
"Perhaps you'd better not," she said, with great demureness.
"Oh, rot!" he expostulated. "A fellow can't get a girl into a mess and then leave her in the lurch!"
"You'd like to see me just once again, to see whether I'd got into a row or not?"
"That's what I mean."
It wasn't what Louie had meant him to mean, but "Well, once, if you like," she conceded.