And manifestly she did not like that, for her face flamed, and she snapped: "Stop it--you bonehead! Can't you see I want to sit here by Mr.Lane ?" The youth slouched away fuming to himself.
Whereupon Lane got up, and seated himself beside Bessy so that he need not shout to be heard.
"That was nice of you, Miss Bell--but rather hard on the youngster," said Lane.
"He makes me sick.

All he wants to do is lolly-gag....

Besides, after what you said to Helen about the jazz I wouldn't dance in front of you on a bet." She was forceful, frank, naive.

She was impressed by his nearness; but Lane saw that it was the fact of his being a soldier with a record, not his mere physical propinquity that affected her.

She seemed both bold and shy.