I thought I might--sometimes when the climb is too steep, a hand will keep one from--slipping." "What made you want to help?
You don't even like me." His tone was flat and unemotional, but she did not seem able to meet his eyes.

So she looked down at the jug.
"Dick said--but the jug is full practically.

I don't understand how--" "It isn't as full as it ought to be; it lacks one swallow." He eyed it queerly.

"I wish I knew how much it would lack by dark," he said.
She threw out an impulsive hand.

"Oh, but you must make up your mind! You mustn't temporize like that, or wonder--or--" "This," he interrupted rather flippantly, "is something little girls can't understand.