Throat, cheeks, and forehead flamed with the rush of the
shamed blood.
"He--he--" she attempted to vindicate her deeper indignation, then
whirled abruptly away and passed out the rear door and down the steps.
Sheldon sat and mused. He was a trifle angry, and the more he dwelt upon
the happening the angrier he grew. If it had been any woman except Joan
it would have been amusing. But Joan was the last woman in the world to
attempt to kiss forcibly. The thing smacked of the back stairs anyway--a
sordid little comedy perhaps, but to have tried it on Joan was nothing
less than sacrilege. The man should have had better sense. Then, too,
Sheldon was personally aggrieved. He had been filched of something that
he felt was almost his, and his lover's jealousy was rampant at thought
of this forced familiarity.
It was while in this mood that the screen door banged loudly behind the
heels of Tudor, who strode into the room and paused before him. Sheldon
was unprepared, though it was very apparent that the other was furious.
"Well?" Tudor demanded defiantly.
And on the instant speech rushed to Sheldon's lips.
"I hope you won't attempt anything like it again, that's all--except that
I shall be only too happy any time to extend to you the courtesy of my
whale-boat.
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