Keith raised a finger and lightly touched her hair.  He rubbed her cheek with his own, so that she could feel the soft bristles of his shaven beard.  And he held her more closely within the circle of his arm.

“Because I’m clumsy?” he breathed.  “You know too much, Jenny.”

“No:  I can tell....  It’s all the difference in the world.”

“Well, then; how many others have kissed you?...  Eh?”

“Keith!” Jenny struggled a little.  “Let me go now.”

“How many?” Keith kissed her cheek.  “Tell the whole dreadful truth.”

“If I asked you how many girls ... what would you say then?” Jenny’s sombre eyes were steadily watching him, prying into the secrets of his own.  He gave a flashing smile, that lighted up his brown face.

“We’re both jealous,” he told her.  “Isn’t that what’s the matter?”

“You don’t trust me.  You don’t want me.  You’re only teasing.”  With a vehement effort she recovered some of her self-control.  Pride was again active, the dominant emotion.  “So am I only teasing,” she concluded.  “You’re too jolly pleased with yourself.”

“How did you know I was clumsy?” Keith asked.  “I shall bite your old face.  I shall nibble it ... as if I was a horse ... and you were a bit of sugar.  Fancy Jenny going home with half a face!” He laughed excitedly at his forced pleasantry, and the sound of his laugh was music to Jenny’s ears.  He was excited.  He was moved.  Quickly the melancholy pressed back upon her after this momentary surcease.  He was excited because she was in his arms—­not because he loved her.

“Why did you send for me?” she suddenly said.  “In your letter you said you’d explain everything.  Then you said you’d tell me about yourself.  You’ve done nothing but tease all the time....  Are you afraid, or what?  Keith, dear:  you don’t know what it means to me.  If you don’t want me—­let me go.  I oughtn’t to have come.  I was silly to come; but I had to.  But if you only wanted somebody to tease ... one of the others would have done quite as well.”

Again the smile spread across Keith’s face, brightening his eyes and making his teeth glisten.

“I said you were jealous,” he murmured in her ear.  “One of the others, indeed!  Jenny, there’s no other—­nobody like you, my sweet.  There couldn’t be.  Do you think there could be?”

“Nobody such a fool,” Jenny said, miserably.

“Who’s a fool?  You?” He seemed to think for a moment; and then went on:  “Well, I’ve told you I planned the supper....  That was true.”

“Let me go.  I’m getting cramped.”  Jenny drew away; but he followed, holding her less vigorously, but in no way releasing her.  “No:  really let me go.”  Keith shook his head.

“I shan’t let you go,” he said.  “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I only make myself miserable.”  Jenny felt her hair, which was loosened.  Her cheeks were hot.

“Are you sorry you came?”