“You’re the only one here.”
“Well, then, do you think you’ll take advantage of my womanly helplessness?”
“Yes.”
“Never! Overalls is royal raiment when wore for voitue’s sake. You’ll never kiss me till you put a wedding-ring on me finger.”
He looked away, sobered and troubled.
She stared at him. “Good Heavens! Can’t you take a hint?”
“Not that one.”
“Then I insist on your marrying me. You have compromised me hopelessly. Everybody says I am working here just to be near you, and that’s a fact.”
He was a caricature of mental and physical awkwardness.
She gasped: “And still he doesn’t answer me! Must I get on my knees to you?”