"
There was no answer possible to that, as far as she knew.
"You needn't say anything," she went on placidly, but with that
spark of excited mischief still in her eyes. "Do you know, Dr.
Hewitt, I'm getting to be much less afraid of you. You certainly
have the _kindest_ heart----"
Here the worm turned. He also got up off the floor, and stood over
her, toweringly, as he answered.
"I haven't a kind heart one bit," he said--and was there a certain
sharpness in his voice?--"kissing you isn't at all hard--"
"Compared to lots of messy things you have to do in the exercise of
your profession?" finished Joy contemplatively, cocking her bronze
head on one side, and looking up at him sweetly, her arms around her
knees. "_I_ know. I've read about them--I've read a lot. You
have to give people blood out of your strong, bared right arm, and
cure them of diphtheria, and scrub floors--oh, no, it's the nurses
do that. 'A physician's life is _not_ a happy one!'"
She laughed, as he stood severely there above her. She had not
realized before that she knew how to tease anybody, least of all the
demigod who had rescued her from the shadows of the reception-halls
at home. But his kissing her had done something to her--it always
seemed to, she reflected--and his matter-of-fact explanation of it
had exasperated her to the point of wanting to pay him back.
"He might at least have _said_ he liked it," she told herself
petulantly.
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