"Please," she begged lightly.
"My reputation, I suppose."
She began to roll up the embroidery upon which she was busy. But he got to the door before her.
"No, you don't."
"You are not going to make me tell you why I can't go with you, are you?"
"That, to start with. Then I'm going to make you tell me some other things."
"But if I don't want to tell?" Her eyes were wide open with surprise, for he had never before taken the masterful line with her. Deep down, she liked it; but she had no intention of letting him know so.
"There are times not to tell, and there are times to tell. This will be one of the last kind, Phyllis."
She tried mockery. "When you throw a big chest like that I suppose you always get what you want."
"You act right funny, girl. I never see you alone any more. We haven't had a good talk for more than a week. Now, why?"