"You wait and see. I bet you'll think it's pretty when you see it. Don't say you won't. It's only a little bit of a way. I've got things I want to say to you. I can't tell you how I feel with all those fools about us shouting to each other."
Still urging her he turned his face towards hers and looked into her eyes as into darkly dangerous pools. "Don't refuse me this," he pleaded. "If I thought you doted on me, I couldn't refuse you anything. Not that I would anyway, even if you hated me, but, you know—when a fellow—oh, Delight, come along, it's only a little way."
"O—o, I'm so sleepy," she yawned, opening her mouth widely like a child, and, like a child, suffering herself to be led along. "I'm so sleepy that I'd like to go straight to bed. . . . Jimmy, did you see young Mr. Crosby dancing with me?"
"Yes, I did, curse him!" Jimmy growled.
"Oh, no. He's nice. He admired my earrings."
"Just your earrings, eh? Not you!"
Delight's head drooped.
Jimmy was suddenly angry. "Oh, I know what girls are like! Just because his father's a colonel, you'd let him say anything."
"But he didn't, Jimmy. He didn't say half the things you do."
"Well, he'd better not," returned Jimmy stoutly. "I know his kind. And how I hated to see you dancing with Bastien! Gosh, he's a bad 'un. And that beast Kirke and his old reel—"
"'Fine Nicht' I call him. You know the funny way he talks. Scotch. Are we nearly there, Jimmy? I think you're awful, truly I do."
Jimmy passionately pressed her arm against his ribs.
