"Shall, or will?" he inquired, guilelessly, "People mix up those two auxiliaries so persistently that there's no telling what anybody really means in these days."
She considered a moment, then turned and looked at him.
"Jack," she said sweetly, "don't follow me about?"
"I? Follow you! That's more madness, dear lady. Who on earth ever whispered to you that I could ever do such a——"
"Won't you be serious, please?"
Her pretty, dark eyes were serious enough, even appealing. He became solemn at once.
"You have forced me to say this," she ventured. "I didn't wish to; I thought you'd understand, but you don't seem to. So I am compelled to say to you that—it is—better taste for you to—not to——"
She hesitated, glanced up at him, colored brightly.
"You know perfectly well what I mean! And there you sit, letting me try to tell you as nicely as I can——"
"About what, dear lady?"