“Why? Because I wanted to see you? Look here, please; why shouldn’t I call on you at the house? As I’ve told you, I’m fairly respectable. And—and I want to see you—more often! I suppose it sounds dreadfully cheeky,” he went on softly, “but I want you to like me, and it doesn’t seem to me that I get a fair show.”
The color came and went in her cheeks and the violets were hidden from him.
“It certainly does sound—cheeky, as you call it,” she said after a moment, rather unsteadily. “Considering that you have seen me but four times.”
“Five, if you please. Besides, I don’t see that that matters. In fact, I rather think the mischief was done the first time!”
He captured her hand and for a moment it only fluttered in his grasp. Then it tried for liberty, but unsuccessfully. A moment passed, and,
“Are you making love to me, Mr. Parmley?” she asked, with a little amused laugh. It was like a cold douche, but he resisted his first impulse to release her.
“Yes, I am,” he answered stoutly. “That’s just what I’m doing! And I’m going to keep on doing it until I’m convinced that there’s no hope for me. Please don’t struggle,” he continued, capturing her other hand also. “I’ll let you go in just a moment. Maybe I’m behaving a good deal like a bully, but I’m head-over-heels in love with you, Laura, and——”
“No, no! Please!” she cried, with a little catch in her voice.
“What—what have I done?” he asked anxiously.