“Oh, they'd go quick enough if I asked them up here in the country. Etiquette don't count with them when they're on a vacation.”
“I'm not on a vacation; so it counts with me. Please take your arm away,” said Cynthia.
“Oh, all right. But I shouldn't object to your putting your arm around me.”
“You will never have the chance.”
“Why are you so hard on me, Cynthy?” asked Jeff. “You didn't used to be so.”
“People change.”
“Do I?”
“Not for the better.”
Jeff was dumb. She was pleased with her hit, and laughed. But her laugh did not encourage him to put his arm round her again. He let the mare walk on, and left her to resume the conversation at whatever point she would.
She made no haste to resume it. At last she said, with sufficient apparent remoteness from the subject they had dropped: “Jeff, I don't know whether you want me to talk about it. But I guess I ought to, even if it isn't my place exactly. I don't think Jackson's very well, this summer.”