“No, it wasn’t,” he laughed. “I don’t want credit for what I don’t deserve. I simply put it off, little girl—I put it off. I knew we would be alone on our way home, and that you would not refuse me.”
“But I shall!” she said. “I’m not going to let you kiss me here in—in—this way.”
“Then you’ll not be keeping your part of the contract,” he said, tightening his grasp on her hand. “I’ve always considered you so fair in everything; and, Cynthia, you don’t know how much I want to kiss you. No, you won’t refuse me—you can’t!” His left arm was behind her, and it encircled her waist. She made an effort to draw herself erect, but he drew her closer to him. Her head sank upon his shoulder and lay there while he pressed his lips to hers.
Then she sat up, and firmly pushed his arm down from her waist.
“I’m sorry I let you do it,” she said, under her breath.
“But why, darling?”
“Because I’ve said a thousand times that I would not; but I have—I have, and I shall hate myself always.”
“When you have made me the happiest fellow in the state?” Floyd said. “Don’t go!” he urged.
She had risen and turned toward her home. He walked beside her, suiting his step to hers.