“Because if it is true I want you either to take your arm away or take your glasses off.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to. All you have to understand is that I don’t want your arm around me. I’d rather go to the penitentiary than have you kiss me.”
“For the Lord’s sake!” Winfield gasped, relaxing his clutch.
Sheila went on with that sarcasm which is cold poison to romance: “I don’t blame you for attempting it. I know it’s the usual thing on such occasions. But I don’t like it, and that ought to be enough.”
Winfield sighed with shame and regret. “It’s quite enough! I beg your pardon very humbly. Shall we turn back now?”
“If you please.”
The very engine seemed to groan as Winfield started it up again. It clucked reprovingly, “Ts! ts! ts!”
Winfield was more angry than sorry. He had made a fool of himself and she had made another fool of him. He was young enough to grumble a little, “Are you in love with that man Eldon?”
“He’s very nice.”