"But I shall."
He would. She was certain of it.
Still she wavered.
"I don't want to jump," she pouted.
"You'll have to. Come on, Beautiful. You're wasting time."
"I think you are perfectly horrid," she flung out as she sprang forward.
An instant later she was in his arms and tight in a grip she knew herself powerless to loosen.
"Let me go, Hortie! Let me go!" she pleaded.
"I shall, sweetheart. All in good time. Before I set you free, though, we must settle one trivial point. Are we engaged or are we not?"