“I give you my word,” he answered earnestly, “that I will return these to you as soon as I am done with them.”
She leaned forward and plucked a withered leaf from a bush to hide the smile that trembled about her lips.
“Have you—have you any idea when that will be?” she asked.
“Indeed, yes, I can tell you to a minute!”
“Can you?”
“You shall have them back the very instant you give me some fresh ones.”
“Oh!” She was still hunting for withered leaves. “Are you going to press them, then?”