They discussed this difficulty for some time without illumination. Then Ann had a happy thought. "Tell you what," she said, starting away from him abruptly and laying a hand on his arm, "you let me 'ave it, Artie. I know where father keeps his file."
Kipps handed her the sixpence, and they came upon a pause.
"I'll easy do it," said Ann.
In considering the sixpence side by side, his head had come near her cheek. Quite abruptly he was moved to take his next step into the unknown mysteries of love.
"Ann," he said, and gulped at his temerity, "I do love you. Straight. I'd do anything for you, Ann. Reely—I would."
He paused for breath. She answered nothing, but she was no doubt enjoying herself. He came yet closer to her—his shoulder touched hers. "Ann, I wish you'd"
He stopped.
"What?" said Ann.
"Ann—lemme kiss you."
Things seemed to hang for a space; his tone, the drop of his courage, made the thing incredible as he spoke. Kipps was not of that bold order of wooers who impose conditions.
Ann perceived that she was not prepared for kissing after all. Kissing, she said, was silly, and when Kipps would have displayed a belated enterprise, she flung away from him. He essayed argument. He
