And look here, Flip," he said, suddenly straightening himself, and lifting the girl's face to a level with his own, "I don't want you to lie any more for me.
It ain't right." "All right.

Ye needn't go to the pit, then, and I won't come." "Flip!" "And here's Dad coming.

Quick!" Lance chose to put his own interpretation on this last adjuration.

The resisting little hand was now lying quite limp on his shoulder.

He drew her brown, bright face near his own, felt her spiced breath on his lips, his cheeks, his hot eyelids, his swimming eyes, kissed her, hurriedly replaced his wig and blanket, and dropped beside the fire with the tremulous laugh of youth and innocent first passion.