'Ay,' cried Annie, speaking for the first time. 'Pick, John Thomas; let's
hear thee.'

'Nay,' he said. 'I'm going home quiet tonight. Feeling good, for once.'

'Whereabouts?' said Annie. 'Take a good 'un, then. But tha's got to take
one of us!'

'Nay, how can I take one,' he said, laughing uneasily. 'I don't want to
make enemies.'

'You'd only make _one_' said Annie.

'The chosen _one_,' added Laura.

'Oh, my! Who said girls!' exclaimed John Thomas, again turning, as if to
escape. 'Well--good-night.'

'Nay, you've got to make your pick,' said Muriel. 'Turn your face to the
wall, and say which one touches you. Go on--we shall only just touch your
back--one of us. Go on--turn your face to the wall, and don't look, and
say which one touches you.'

He was uneasy, mistrusting them. Yet he had not the courage to break
away. They pushed him to a wall and stood him there with his face to it.
Behind his back they all grimaced, tittering. He looked so comical. He
looked around uneasily.

'Go on!' he cried.