'Your hair's coming down,' he remarked.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'But at the back it generally is.'

'Don't move--let me do it.'

Pretending to arrange it, he took all the hairpins out, and the cloud
of dark red hair fell down on her shoulders.

'I like your hair, Mavis.'

* * * * *

'It seems too awful I should have been with you such a long time this
afternoon,' she exclaimed.

'It _isn't_ long.'

'And sometimes it seems so dreadful to think I can't be with you
always.'

'Yes, doesn't it? Mavis dear, will you do up your hair and come out to
dinner?'

'Vincy dear, I think I'd better not, because of Aunt Jessie.'

'Oh, very well; all right. Then you will another time?'

'Oh, you don't want me to stay?'