Part 6 (1/2)
”You _are_ a one for being roundabout,” says the lady.
”Well, you're not so plain, you know.”
”Not plain?”
”No.”
”You don't mean to say I'm roundabout?”
”No. I mean to say ... though----”
Pause.
”Well?”
”You're not a bit plain--you're” (his voice jumps up to a squeak) ”pretty. See?”
”Oh, get _out_!” her voice lifts also--with pleasure.
She strikes at him with her glove, then glances suddenly at a ring upon her finger. Her smile disappears momentarily. Another pause. Eyes meet and the smile returns.
”I wish I knew----” says Kipps.
”Knew----?”
”Where you got that ring.”
She lifts the hand with the ring until her eyes just show (very prettily) over it. ”You'd just _like_ to know,” she says slowly, and smiles still more brightly with the sense of successful effect.
”I dessay I could guess.”
”I dessay you couldn't.”
”Couldn't I?”
”No!”
”Guess it in three.”
”Not the name.”
”Ah!”
”_Ah!_”
”Well, anyhow lemme look at it.”
He looks at it. Pause. Giggles, slight struggle, and a slap on Kipps'
coatsleeve. A pa.s.serby appears down the path, and she hastily withdraws her hand.