“Keys? Yes!” she cried, and, running with them back to the bars, began trying one after another in trembling haste till the lock clicked pleasantly, and out marched young Geoffrey.
Now what do you suppose this young man did when he found himself free once more, and standing close by the lovely young person to whom he owed his liberty? Did he place his heels together, and let his arms hang gracefully, and so bow with respect and a manner at once dignified and urbane, and say, “Miss Elaine, permit me to thank you for being so kind as to let me out of prison?” That is what he ought to have done, of course, if he had known how to conduct himself like a well-brought-up young man. But I am sorry to have to tell you that Geoffrey did nothing of the sort, but, instead of that, behaved in a most outrageous manner. He did not thank her at all. He did not say one single word to her. He simply put one arm round her waist and gave her a kiss!
“Geoffrey!” she murmured, “don’t!”
But Geoffrey did, with the most astonishing and complacent disobedience.
“Oh, Geoffrey!” she whispered, looking the other way, “how wrong of you! And of me!” she added a little more softly still, escaping from him suddenly, and facing about.
“I don’t see that,” said Geoffrey. “I love you, Elaine. Elaine, darling, I——”
“Oh, but you mustn’t!” answered she, stepping back as he came nearer.
This was simply frightful! And so sudden. To think of her—Elaine!—but she couldn’t think at all. Happy? Why, how wicked! How had she ever——
“No, you must not,” she repeated, and backed away still farther.
“But I will!” said this lover, quite loudly, and sprang so quickly to where she stood that she was in his arms again, and this time without the faintest chance of getting out of them until he should choose to free her.