But another is, I want you to tell me all about yourself--in the war, you know." "I'd be glad to--if we get to be real friends," he said, thoughtfully.
"I don't understand you." "And I'll say I don't just get you," she retorted.

"What do you want?
Have you forgotten the silver platter ?" She turned away with a restless quivering.

She had shown no shyness.
She was bold, intense, absolutely without fear; and however stimulating or attractive the situation evidently was, it was neither new nor novel to her.

Some strange leaven worked deep in her.

Lane could put no other interpretation on her words and actions than that she expected him to kiss her.
"Bessy Bell, look at me," said Lane, earnestly.