Breathlessly, curiously she inquired, "Wha'd you do that for ?" "What did I _do_ it for?
Say! You ought to be complimented--tickled to death." Delamater rubbed his cheek and glared at her.

"By God! I wish you were a man.

Oh, don't worry, I won't touch you again! Who the hell would, after that ?" Allie opened her lips to speak, but he ran on more angrily as the pain bit into him.

"Thought I meant it, eh?
Why, you lumbering ox--" "Then you ain't--in love with me or--or anything ?" "_Love_ ?" The speaker uttered an unpleasant sound indicative of scorn.
"Wake up, sister! What d'you take me for?
Why, your mother talks bird talk, and your dad lives in a box stall and eats oats with his knife! Here I kid you along a little bit--slip you a little kiss, as I would any girl, and you--you--" Delamater stuttered impotently.

"_Love_?
I guess I'm the first regular fellow that ever gave you a chance." Delamater was surprised when his pupil turned her back upon him, strode to the nearest window, and flung it open as if for air; his surprise deepened when she faced him again and moved in his direction.