steady girls."
"That's true," said Sally, thoughtfully. "They want a bit of ginger."
"Well, sometimes I think nobody ought to marry until they're well on inlife."
"They'd miss a lot," Sally murmured.
"Eh? Well, it's a puzzle to me. Look at Nancy. What is it she wants?She's got forty or fifty years more to live."
"But you don't think like that," breathed Sally. "It's love."
Miss Summers gave a great sigh, and rubbed the tip of her nose with theback of her forefinger. She was seriously perplexed at the interruptionfrom one so sagacious.
"_You'll_ think twice before you marry for just love, and nothing else,"said she.
Sally's little white face was turned away. She was apparentlyconcentrated upon her work.
"Perhaps I shall," she admitted. "You never know what you'll do till thetime comes."
"You can make up your mind to be careful," said Miss Summers. "It's notthe first man who makes the best husband."
Sally crouched in her place. Her heart was beating so fast that she feltas though she were suffocating. Miss Summers could not appreciate theeffect of her words, because she had gone back again to the subject ofNancy and her married shopwalker.
"You ought to have _seen_ that child's work to-day!"
"Perhaps she's going to have a baby?" suggested Sally. It gave MissSummers a great shock.
"Oh! D'you think so?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide open with horror."Oh, no!"
"You'd have thought they were all going to have 'em, the way the girlsall looked and acted this morning. They were all potty. Silly fools."
Miss Summers gave a sigh of relief, and then she laughed a little.
"We were all rather grumpy this morning," she admitted. "It's theweather. Always upsets people. Doctor Johnson said it didn't."
"Who's he? Doctors don't know anything at all. Only take advantage ofother people's ignorance. They frighten people, you know, looking wise,and making you put out your tongue, and all."
"I don't know what we should do without them," sighed Miss Summers. "Ofcourse, there's always the patent medicines; but I never found anythingthat cured my indigestion."
"Only chewing prop'ly," grimly suggested Sally.
Miss Summers abruptly rolled up her work at this unsympathetic remark,and took off her pinafore. She stood uncertainly by the window.
"I've been keeping you," she said. "But I _am_ worried about that child.I do hope she hasn't been silly. At her age they've got no sense at all.They can't see an inch before their nose. You coming now, Sally? Allright, slam the door after you.... Don't stay too late."
Ten minutes afterwards Miss Summers had gone. Sally waited a littlewhile, to give her time to reach the street and remember anything thatmight bring her back. Then, very quietly, she took off her own pinafore,and stole across the room and listened at Gaga's door. She could hearnothing. Sharply, she tapped, and listened again.
"Come in!" said a voice.
Sally opened the door, standing there in her grey dress, with her hairbrilliant, and her whole face smiling. And Gaga, looking up from hiswork, saw her thus as a vision, a happy vision for tired eyes. He smiledin return and Sally advanced, without any shyness or assumed shyness,into the room.
"Wondered if you were here," she said cheerfully. "Everybody else hasgone. Miss Summers and all. I'm working on something. Oo, hasn't it beena day! The girls all had the fidgets. I've been quite ill all day."
"Ill?" demanded Gaga. "Not ... not really ill? Oh, I'm.... I'm so sorry.Poor Sally!"
"Headache," mentioned Sally, rather lugubriously, so as to encourage hispity.
"Headache? Oh, poor little girl! So have I."
Sally gave a little laugh. It contained all sorts of provocative shadesof meaning.
"Hn," she said. "Funny us _both_ having headaches. You still got yours?"
Gaga nodded. She went farther towards him, hesitated, and then stillnearer.
"Very bad," groaned Gaga, and Sally could see the heaviness round hiseyes.
"I'm so sorry," she said in a soft voice. Then: "My hand's cool. ShallI?" She put her hand to Gaga's forehead, and felt how burning it was.She felt him grow rigid at the contact, and saw his face betray hissensitiveness to her touch. Sally's smile deepened in mischief. She wasplaying with him, playing with fire and Gaga at the same time, and onlylightly amused at her employment. But she was still apart from him,standing erect, with her right arm outstretched. There was not yet anyintimacy in her attitude. Nor could she see his face very plainlywithout peeping over her arm.
"That better?" she asked.
"Beautiful." Gaga tried to move his head. Failing, he put his hand toher wrist, pulled it down, and pressed his lips to her fingers.
"Now, now!" warned Sally. "I'm curing your headache."
Mildly he permitted the withdrawal of her hand and its replacement uponhis brow. But in a moment Sally, perhaps growing more daring, exchangedher right hand for her left; and this meant approaching Gaga moreclosely, and the partial encirclement of his head with her arm. She wasquite near him, as Gaga must have known; but he did not dare to put hisarm round her, as he might easily have done. Sally, so experienced,guessed at his temptation, at his fear, and relished both. She was alsoaware of a singular tenderness towards him, a protective, superiorwisdom that made Gaga seem to be a child in his trepidation. To her anembrace meant so much less than it meant to him, and she knew quite wellthat a flirtatious man would have recognised the game that was inprogress and risked a rebuff because of the successive return. Sally wasstill so far from deliberately exploiting Gaga that she did not feelimpatient at his slowness. She savoured it, appreciating the fact thathe shrank, knowing that when she wanted him to do anything she couldalways manage Gaga with the lightest touch. And that was why, in amoment, she allowed herself contact with his shoulder. Gaga's armmechanically rose, and was about her waist, quite unpossessively. Hisface was moved with a conflict of emotions. Sally recognised temptationand self-consciousness, and also with amusement, a sense of his ownincomparable daring.
"You _are_ a devil, aren't you!" she whispered. Instantly she knew thatshe had made a mistake. His arm relaxed. It was only when she drew hisaching head to her breast that she recovered her mastery of him. It wasthe only mistake she had made, and it was at that time the last, for shelearnt at once that he was sensitive to ridicule. She had stepped toofar, and had thereby, for a moment, endangered her sport. She wassmiling again, but she had breathed quickly, at the knowledge of danger.
"How's the head?" she asked. "My hand's getting hot."
"Very bad," answered Gaga, dreading her withdrawal.
"Let me get a wet handkerchief."
"No, no. Don't move. I.... I don't want you to move."
Unconsciously, Sally gave a little sigh. It was all so easy, so much aquestion of his being content with whatever she gave, that the adventurewas fading. It was ceasing to amuse her.
"That's enough," she said. "Now I'm going home." She did not move, andGaga's clasp tightened.
"No," he murmured entreatingly. "Not yet."
"_Must_ go." She took her hand away from his forehead, lingeringly. Gagaheld her to him with rigidity. "Let me go." He took no notice, andSally's hand rested gently upon his shoulder. At last: "Well?" said she.
"Don't go."
There was the slightest struggle, and Sally was free. Gaga's face wasquite red. She stood looking down at him, on her lips that samequizzical smile. Gaga could not bear it. He rose quickly, and at herflight followed breathlessly. She was again lightly imprisoned, her headto his breast, and his arms giving small convulsive pressures as hesought to retain her. She could tell his physical weakness, and hisfeeble, excited desire for her, and she felt his face pressed to herhair. Again Gaga kissed Sally, but she continued to withhold her lips,so that he approached no nearer than her cheek.
"You ... you _must_ know I love you," breathed Gaga.
"Do I?" asked Sally, coolly. "I don't. Why should I?"
"Can't
you tell?" He was speaking directly into her ear, so that shefelt his breath. "I love you ... like this!" He held her with all hisstrength, and gave her cheek a fevered, gnawing kiss. "D'you see, Sally?I love you."
"How's your headache?" asked Sally.
"I ... oh, Sally. Better ... better. But Sally! I love you. Don't youlove me a little? Sally!" There was a long