Martin colored with confusion. He seemed at a loss how to reply. Then, gathering courage, he remarked shyly:
“You like flowers?”
“I love them!”
“Some folks do,” said he hurriedly. “I prefer to see ’em growin’.” 184
“Yet you do cut them sometimes,” persisted Lucy playfully.
“Mighty seldom. Only when it’s good for the vines.”
Again the glint of a smile brightened his countenance, and she saw him blush sheepishly.
“I wish it would be good for them again sometime,” said she, peeping up into his eyes. “Don’t you think there’s danger of their goin’ to seed?”
She heard a short laugh, but he did not answer. Instead, as if to change a dangerous topic, he asked:
“How are you likin’ Sefton Falls?”