The Imp Disposes
"I don't think it's any fun to sit still here!" he burst out. "You said you'd walk, and you aren't walking, and you don't talk, either. If Mr. Florian was here, with that camera, you'd talk! If Mr. Hunter was here"
"Perry Stafford, you are a very disagreeable little boy, and a saucy one, too," interrupted Miss Eleanor coldly. He started—not at her words, he knew his conduct occasionally merited reproach—but at her tone. He had never heard that tone from her. It was like that of a great many other people: it indicated that he and she were of different sorts—she a grown person, he the kind of creature known as a little boy. His lip quivered, he rubbed his shoes together till they squeaked again.
"For heaven's sake, Perry, stop that hideous noise!" she cried nervously. "I should not talk if Mr. Florian were here! I came out here to get away from him, and all the others, too. I am to go, I suppose, all my life, with my mouth closed and my eyes shut. Of course if I laugh and talk, I am perfectly happy! Of course, because I don't snap people up and act like a bear, I am the greatest flirt that ever lived. Of course
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