"It isn't any whiter than your feet, anyway," he said.
"Well, I'm not going to stop a minute."
"Oh, dash it all!" he protested. She did think him cool!
"Good gracious, how long do you think I am going to stay?"
"Hardly worth coming for, I call it," he grumbled.
"Thank you!"
"For you, I mean, of course—as if you didn't know I'd walk miles—how you take a fellow up!"
"Well, two minutes."
Two minutes can be a very short time; five minutes had passed when, making a movement to free herself, she said: "Let me go now, Roy—I think we're both as mad as we can be."
"There isn't anybody about," he muttered.