Suddenly she laughed. O admirable innocence, that alone can defeat guile! After all, it was too unpardonable not to be pardoned. She turned her face away again.
"You are stupid!" she murmured, her face, even her neck, pink once more.
At that quite a new gleam seemed to irradiate his good-looking clay.
"I say," he said slowly, as he struggled with the newness of the idea, "you mean—do you mean?—about my not kissing you—properly?"
Oh, the heaviness! But he should kiss her "properly," as he called it, now!
"Oh," she said briskly, "it's too late now. You can't very well after that, can you?"
But he beamed. "Of course I can!"
"No, Roy!"
"I will——"
This was outrageous. She made as if to rise.