"I know you are not offended," he murmured. "Are you?"
She knew she was not, too; but she merely shrugged. "Then why do you ask me, Mr. Dysart?"
"Because you have such pretty shoulders," he replied seriously.
"What an idiotic reply to make!"
"Why? Don't you think you have?"
"What?"
"Pretty shoulders."
"I don't think anything about my shoulders!"
"You would if there was anything the matter with them," he insisted.
Once or twice he turned his handsome dark gaze on her while she was dissecting her terrapin.