“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
“Why—yes!’ he answered truthfully, wondering what was coming next. She certainly was a wonderful creature.
“Come over here where I can see your little freckled face!’ ordered Lily peremptorily.
Micky grew hot and his heart thumped the way it had on the stern the day she had taken his hand. The color of violcts grew more and more fragrant—almost suffocating. He drew a stool near her and sat down obediently.
“Micky! ’ She laid her hand on his arm. “You do like me, don't you?’
“Of course I do, Mrs. Trevelyan!’ he replied, his voice trembling. He could smell now that curious perfume that exuded from her hair—her neck—like a drowsy odor of Araby. “Everybody does,’ he added after a moment.
“Oh, Micky! Shame on you! That is not what I want!’ she laughed playfully. “You do, and that 's enough! Here, you naughty boy! Give me your hand!’
In the darkness of the wireless house Micky felt her soft, gloved hand slide along his arm to his wrist and clasp his fingers. He knew it was wrong for him to be there. He wanted247
