Mr. Jarvis (reproachfully)—And I thought you were a woman of your word. I didn’t bring you out here to look into limitless space. I brought you out here to look into my hand.
Miss Paysley (bringing her eyes to his, as if with effort, and blushing)—You know I warned you! I’m awfully in earnest, and sometimes I say—well, things.
Mr. Jarvis—I want the truth, you know. (Shakes up the pillow in the hammock.)
Miss Paysley (aside)—He brought me out here to get me to hold his hand half an hour! None in mine, thanks! I’ll show him! (Aloud.) No, here, please, quite under the light.
Mr. Jarvis—You’ll be ever so much more comfortable in the hammock.
Miss Paysley (with a malicious smile)—You’re so thoughtful! But light I must have. Now the table. (Moves the table between them.) Please let both your hands lie quite naturally on it.
Mr. Jarvis (disappointed)—On the table? Oh! (Aside.) At this rate palmistry won’t be popular any more.
Miss Paysley (bends over his hand, then raises her eyes suddenly to Jarvis)—You know it makes me almost nervous to read your hand. I feel, with some people, as if I were listening at the door and hearing secrets I oughtn’t to. (Aside.) I wouldn’t do it for any one but Millicent. But I can’t stand by and see that Orton woman—— How I hate engaged flirts!
Mr. Jarvis—I’m not afraid; if I had been, why should I have asked you?
Miss Paysley (raising her eyes suddenly again)—You may have had—your reasons.