He shook his head. "No, you are tired. Just sit down in the sun. I
won't be long."
She seated herself without protest, and he turned to leave her. A few
paces from her he paused, and she saw that he was trying to light a
cigarette. He failed twice, and impulsively she sprang up.
"Nick, why don't you ask me to help you?"
He whizzed round. "Perhaps I don't want you to," he said quizzically.
She took the match-box from him. "Don't be absurd! Why shouldn't I?"
She struck a match and held it out to him. But he did not take it
from her. He took her wrist instead, and stooping forward lighted his
cigarette deliberately.
She did not look at him. Some instinct warned her that his eyes were
intently searching her face. She seemed to feel them darting over her
in piercing, impenetrable scrutiny.
He released her slowly at length and stood up. "Am I to have the
pleasure of dancing at your wedding?" he asked her suddenly.
She looked up then very sharply, and against her will a burning blush
rose up to her temples. He waited for her answer, and at last it came.
"If you think it worth your while."
"I would come from the other side of the world to see you made happy,"
said Nick.
She turned her face aside. "You are very kind."
"Think so?" There was a note of banter in his voice.
Pages:
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301