"Pat, dear!" whispered the youth, avid and insistent.
He had ceased to seem formidably old to her now; she was his superior. She kissed him again, but lightly and pushed him back.
"Bad bunny!" she mocked. "We ought not to, Sel."
"Oh, what's the harm?"
"Someone might come in."
"Come outside, then."
"Oh, let's go back and dance. I'm afraid of you." She gave him a sidelong glance with this gratuitous lie. "Come, I love this trot."
They danced it out, he holding her closer than before, she letting her cheek press his from time to time. She yearned to the feeling of his young strength, yet was quite content for the time, with the experience of the evening as far as it had gone. When they returned to the conservatory again, she made him sit in a chair opposite to her. His sophomoric assurance was quite tempered down; the unformed child whom he had danced with condescendingly and as a kindness earlier in the evening, was become imperatively desirable now. He chafed at her aloof attitude.
"I'm coming to see you," he said with an attempt at masterfulness in his tone. "I'll come to-morrow. Keep the evening open."
She shook her head. "I'm going back to school."