Geoffrey stopped the motor. "We'll drift and talk."
"You talk," she told him, "and I'll listen, and we mustn't be too late."
"What is too late?"
"I told you I would stay just a little minute."
"There is no real reason why we shouldn't stay as long as we wish. You are surely not so prim that you are doing it for propriety."
"You know I am not prim."
"Yes you are. You are prim and Puritan and sometimes you are a prig. But I like you that way, Mistress Anne. Only to-night I shall do as I please."
"Don't be silly."
"Is it silly to love you—why?"
He argued it with her brilliantly—so that it was only when the red and green lights of a second bridge showed ahead of them that she said, sharply, "We are miles away from Bower's; we must go back."