“But somehow I never did it. I wonder why I didn’t.”
“Perhaps I was so frail you were afraid you would break me.”
“No, that wasn’t it. In the back of my haid somewhere there was an instinct that said: ‘Bucky, you chump, if you don’t keep your hands off this kid you’ll be right sorry all your life.’ Not being given to many ideas, I paid a heap of respect to that one.”
“Well, it’s too bad, for I probably needed that whipping, and now you’ll never be able to give it to me.”
“I shan’t ever want to now.”
Saucily her merry eyes shot him from under the long lashes. “I’m not so sure of that. Girls can be mighty aggravating.”
“That’s the way girls are meant to be, I expect,” he laughed. “But fifteen-year-old boys have to be herded back into line. There’s a difference.”
She rescued her hands from him and led the way to a bench that served for a seat. “Sit down here, sir. There are one or two things that I have to explain.” She sat down beside him at the farther end of the bench.
“This light is so dim, I can’t see you away over there,” he pleaded, moving closer.
“You don’t need to see me. You can hear me, can’t you?”