‘Shan’t go.’
‘Well, of all’—— She rose abruptly. ‘How much longer are you going to keep me here?’ she demanded in an injured tone, as though he were detaining her against her will.
‘Not one minute longer than you wish,’ he answered as he sprang to his feet. ‘Suppose we cross the stream.’
‘Cross the stream?’
‘By means of these stepping-stones. They are here for that purpose.’
‘Oh!’ With a slight accent of dismay. ‘Thank you very much, Mr Dulcimer, but I’d rather not.’
‘Everybody crosses by them—except, perhaps, a few superfine young-lady tourists who think more of wetting their boots and frills than of’——
‘Monster! Lead the way.’
‘Lend me your hand.’
‘Certainly not.’