Well, did he mean? “I do!” he said.
“Not reely!” She clenched her hands to keep still.
He took the conclusive step.
“Well, you and me, Miriam, in a little shop—with a cat and a canary———.” He tried too late to get back to a hypothetical note. “Just suppose it!”
“You mean,” said Miriam, “you’re in love with me, Elfrid?”
What possible answer can a man give to such a question but “Yes!”
Regardless of the public park, the children in the sandpit and everyone, she bent forward and seized his shoulder and kissed him on the lips. Something lit up in Mr. Polly at the touch. He put an arm about her and kissed her back, and felt an irrevocable act was sealed. He had a curious feeling that it would be very satisfying to marry and have a wife—only somehow he wished it wasn’t Miriam. Her lips were very pleasant to him, and the feel of her in his arm.
They recoiled a little from each other and sat for a moment, flushed and awkwardly silent. His mind was altogether incapable of controlling its confusion.
“I didn’t dream,” said Miriam, “you cared———. Sometimes I thought it was Annie, sometimes Minnie———”
“Always liked you better than them,” said Mr. Polly.
“I loved you, Elfrid,” said Miriam, “since ever we met at your poor father’s funeral. Leastways I would
