“Oh, I don’t know.” She looked at him as if he were stupid. “You ought to know, better than I. You see ’em all around you at Daddie’s business.” She also had been set to thinking. “How are they different from us?” she asked. Then: “Father says they simply aren’t as clever. Most of them drink too much: and have packs of children: and don’t bathe very often. I guess it’s all these things.” “It must be. But you can’t really see much difference. Of course, _you_. You’re different. You’re a--why, you’d die, you couldn’t have been born, anywhere else. But I work with five other chaps in the shipping office, and they’re just like me.” Lois laughed. “What nonsense. They’re not! You’re much nicer.” She was giggling in foretaste of the wicked truth she was about to utter, “you’re--I’m sure you’re _much_, much cleaner.” She was like a pricking rose under his face, laughing there on the couch. David resolved to be angry. “That’s rotten of you, Lo. You’re no democrat.” “Of course, I’m not. I’m a Republican.” David, enjoying his indignation and unconsciously aware of the excuse it gave him, reached for her wrists. “Don’t!” he commanded. “You are!” He pulled her to him, and put his arms around her waist. He said: “Stop making fun of people.” Then he kissed her. Lois stopped laughing. She was very still. Her eyes glistened. “Do you think, if you hadn’t been _nicer_, and _cleaner_ and everything, I’d let you _kiss_ me?” She jumped up and away. He liked her intimacy. It flattered him. He did not wish to tell her of his work at Mr. Devitt’s, and how easily he might have stayed there long and forever. And she liked his reticence, feeling its power. She liked the veiled promise of pleasure and strength that he suffused from all of his big being. It frightened her. She was seated as far away from him as she could manage. Her bare elbows were on her knees and her chin was cupped in her hands. The pressure upward faintly distorted her soft mouth: one corner was open and two teeth bit white and hard against the lip. Her throat tremored with her amusement; the rose mesh of her waist fell forward in suggestion of the warm swell of her girlish bosom. David believed that she was purring. He saw her teeth biting their hardness into the blush of her lips: he saw how smooth and round her arm was. He said: “You let me kiss you because I’ve a right to.” He was aware of the retreat in his words. “...because we’re cousins.” She merely lifted her face a bit, as if he were stirring away. “All right. We’re going to play now that we are _not_ cousins. We are just you and me, do you hear? So you mayn’t kiss me anymore.” Already he was forward. The game started. The goal was implicit with them both. In a fortnight’s time, David had won his kiss. He was very sure that Lois was very lovely: he was almost sure that she did not return his kisses because he was unworthy.... * * * * *