"Don't smoke it, pleath."
"Just one, just half a one," said Skippy with a haunted look. "My Lord, it's been an hour—"
"Pleath for my thake, Jack."
He hesitated, swallowed hard, made one or two false gestures, and flung away the cigarette.
"If you ask it like that," he said huskily.
"I'm going to athk more," said Miss Tupper with shining eyes. "I'm going to athk you to pwomith never to touch another thigawette or another card."
"I can't," said Skippy. "It's gone too far, it's beyond me."
"But it'll kill you, Jack," said Miss Tupper, alarm in the beautiful eyes.
"I couldn't promise. I couldn't keep it," said Skippy, who had no intention of relinquishing his dramatic advantage, "but I'll make a fight for it. If you want me to—Jennie. If you really care?"
The moon ripple and the fragrance of the honeysuckle were no longer about them. Miss Tupper in the calmer light of the day considered her words with due regard to precept and standard.