Ben made no motion to follow her, none to prevent her going.
"I'm sorry," he said simply.
The little girl took two steps decidedly, a third haltingly, a fourth, then stopped and looked back out of the corner of her eye.
"Are you very sorry?" she asked.
Ben nodded his head gravely.
There was a moment of indecision. "All right," she said, with apparent reluctance; "but we won't play duck any more. We'll play drop the handkerchief."
The boy discreetly ignored the change of purpose.
"I don't know how," he admitted once more.
Such deplorable ignorance aroused her sympathy.
"Don't Mr. Rankin, or—or anyone—play with you?" she asked.