"Oh, that's all right. You needn't hurry. I wouldn't hurt you. You
seem to be a very sprightly sort of a creature. You laugh as though
you really meant it. What's your name? I've told you mine."

"Una."

"H-m. That means 'first'."

"But not the last. There are five others--all girls."

"Girls! What a pity!"

She must have glanced around at him quickly, with that bird-like
pertness I discovered later. He was declaring war, himself
defenseless, and was not even aware of it.

"You're not flattering. A pity! Why?"

"It's too bad if you had to be born why some of you couldn't have been
boys. You'd have been a fine sort of a boy, I think."

"Would I really?" she said. "A better sort of a boy than I am a girl?"

He shrugged his shoulders, oblivious of the bait for flattery.

"How should I know what sort of a girl you are? You seem sensible
enough and you're not easily frightened. You know, I--I rather like
you."