He does me a
great honor to come, anyhow. Just think of his coming to see a boy
like me--and he so--"
"Well, bring him downstairs, then." Her eyes began to flash; she
had tried all the arts she knew--they were not many--but they had
won heretofore. "Mother will take care of him. A good many of the
girls' fathers come for them."
"Bring him downstairs to a dance!" Jack answered with a merry
laugh. "He isn't that kind of an old gentleman, either. Why,
Corinne, you ought to see him! You might as well ask old Bishop
Gooley to lead the german."
Jack's foot was now ready to mount the lower step of the stairs.
Corinne bit her lip.
"You never do anything to please me!" she snapped back. She knew
she was fibbing, but something must be done to check this new form
of independence--and then, now that Garry couldn't come, she
really needed him. "You don't want to come, that's it--" She
facing him now, her little nose high in the air, her cheeks
flaming with anger.
"You must not say that, Corinne," he answered in a slightly
indignant tone.
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