"Bless your funny little heart!" he said. "Peg
away, if you want to! It looks rather as if you're starting at the
wrong end, but, being a woman, no doubt you will get there
eventually."
That pierced her. It was Guy--Guy in the flesh--tenderly taunting
her with some feminine weakness. So swift and so sharp was the
pain that she could not hide it. She bent her face over her work
with a quick intake of the breath.
"Why--Sylvia!" he said, bending over her.
She drew away from him. "Don't--please! I--I am foolish.
Don't--take any notice!"
He stood up again, but his hand found her shoulder and rubbed it
comfortingly. "What is it, partner? Tell a fellow!" he urged, his
tone an odd mixture of familiarity and constraint.
She fought with herself, and at last told him. "You--you--you were
so like--Guy--just then."
"Oh, damn Guy!" he said lightly. "I am much more like myself at
all times. Cheer up, partner! Don't cry for the moon!"
She commanded herself and looked up at him with a quivering smile.
"It is rather idiotic, isn't it? And ungrateful too. You are very
good not to lose patience."
"Oh, I am very patient," said Burke with a certain grimness. "But
look here! Must you mend that shirt? I've got another somewhere."
Her smile turned to a laugh. She sprang up with a lithe, impulsive
movement, "Come along then! Let's go! I don't know why you want
to be bothered with me, I'm sure.
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