get stuck on them. You should have foresight enough—"
"I beg your pardon, Mr. King!" she interrupted frigidly. "You seem to presume that I'm anxious to pick up a flirtation with a baseball player. I assure you that you are mistaken; but, even if you were not, you could not choose a better method of making yourself offensive."
He saw he had made a false step; in vain he tried to remedy the error. She would not quarrel, nor would she discuss the matter further, maintaining silence, save when it became absolutely necessary, out of politeness, to make some answer to what he was saying. Cursing himself for a blunderer, he apologized as well as he could, speaking of their long friendship, and his natural interest in her, which might have led any one into such an indiscretion. At the door of the parsonage they parted, he still humble and penitent, she still cool and formal.
"I'm a fool!" he growled as he strode away. "I should have known better. I did know better, but I lost my head when I saw him fawning upon her—when I saw her, poppy-cheeked, looking after him. If he takes a fancy to cut in on my preserves, he'll find the going rough. I'll guarantee he has a vulnerable spot, and I'll locate it."
