Page:E Nesbit - The Literary Sense.djvu/60

48 "Here she is!" she cried.

He also sprang to his feet.

"And we haven't told each other anything!" he said. "Haven't we? Ah, no—don't! Let me go! There—she's knocking again. You must let me go!"

He let her slip through his arms.

At the door she paused to flash a soft, queer smile at him.

"It was I who told you, after all!" she said. "Aren't you glad? Because that wasn't a bit literary."

"You didn't. I told you," he retorted.

"Not you!" she said scornfully. "That would have been too obvious."