"Wouldn't you like a little beer, and some sandwiches? I have some in
the ice box.... _Do_ let's have some beer and sandwiches."

I assented, though hating the bitter taste of beer, and hungry for her
instead of sandwiches. And soon we were sitting down calmly at the
table, or rather, she was sitting down calmly ... baffled, I pretended
to be calm.

As she rose for something or other, I sprang around the table and caught
her close to me once more, marvelling, at the same time, at my loss of
shyness, my new-found audacity. Again she snuggled in close to me, her
flesh like a warm, palpitating cushion.

"Flora, my darling ... help me!" I cried, half-sobbing.

"What do you mean?" laughing.

"I love you!"

"I know all _you_ want!"

"But I do love you ... see...."

And I prostrated myself, in a frenzy, at her feet.

"Say, you're the queerest kid I've ever known."

And she walked out of the room abruptly, while I rose to my feet and sat
in a chair, dejected. She came in again, a twinkle in her eye.