“Girls,” Peter stated sapiently, looking away, “girls get silly little crushes ... don’t amount to anything, of course ... get over ’em just as fast....”
Mary-Lou got up from her chair and came to stand beside his, and when he rose she put her tanned, beautiful hand on his arm. “Peter, you’re a dear. But Nancy’s a dear, too! She’s absolutely sweet, Peter—innocent—why, she’s a hold-over from the befo’ the wah days. They aren’t making that model any more, in girls!”
“You said something!” he agreed heartily.
“And she’s awfully pretty, don’t you think?”
“Melt-in-the-mouth!”
“And this—this little infatuation—no, that’s too grave a word, Peter—fancy, that’s all it is, silly little crush, as you said, just as a girl might have for a man in the movies, you know——”
“Of course.”
“It won’t last, Peter; you just said so yourself, and especially now, when she knows he’s a thieving rascal. Peter, couldn’t you? I’d like mighty well to have you for a cousin! She’d make you the most adorable wife!”
“Mary-Lou Tenafee,” said Peter Parker soberly, “knowing your tribal standards, I’ll say that’s just about the handsomest thing that ever happened to me! But there are two reasons why I can’t manage it! You, yourself, are one, my dear. I’d be head over heels this minute, if I weren’t fathoms deep in love with Glen Darrow.”
“Glen Darrow!” She gave a little gasp and stared at him.