“Why don’t you go away?” said the girl, venturing one set of toes from under their tent, but hesitating to proceed further in the business.
Without word or turn of head he walked away.
Either flattered by his absolute obedience, and persuaded that he was a true squire, or unwilling to forego what amusement she might gain from him, she drew in her half-issuing foot, and, certainly urged in part by an inherent disposition to tease, spoke again.
“You’re not going away without thanking me?” she said.
“What for, mem?” he returned simply, standing stock-still again with his back towards her.
“You needn’t stand so. You don’t think I would go on dressing while you remained in sight?”
“I was as guid ’s awa’, mem,” he said, and turning a glowing face, looked at her for a moment, then cast his eyes on the ground.
“Tell me what you mean by not thanking me,” she insisted.
“They wad be dull thanks, mem, that war thankit afore I kenned what for.”
“For allowing you to carry me ashore, of course.”