“Are you listing the items in the order of their importance?” she asked. “And anyhow we won’t be here long, since I am leaving now.”
“Why are you going?” he wanted to know.
“A little matter, a mere trifle. You seem to have forgotten it, but—we haven’t been introduced.”
“Now looky here, ma’am. What’s in a name? Some guys says, ‘Meet Mr. Jones,’ an’ you claim you know me. Not a thing to that. It’s a heap more fun to do our own introducin’. Now ain’t it? Honest Injun! I’m anything you want to call me, an’ you’re Miss-Lady-in-the-Apple-Blossoms. An’ now that’s been fixed, I reckon I’ll take the elevator up.”
The girl’s eyes sparkled. There was something attractive about this young fellow’s impudence that robbed it of offence. Womanlike, her mind ran to evasions. “You can’t come up. You’d shake down all the blossoms.”
“If I shook ’em all down but one I’ll bet the tree would bloom to beat any other in the orchard.”
“If that is meant for a compliment——”
“No, Lady, for the truth.”
He caught the lowest limb and was about to swing himself up. Her sharp “No!” held him an instant while their eyes met. A smile crept into his and gave the face a roguish look, a touch of Pan.
“Will you come down then?”