Red as the cherry went Dickie's face, and he marched stiffly past without reply. Once we were out of earshot, he remarked, with deep disgust: "What a freshy!"
"Yes, but rather pretty," said I.
"Think so? Now, I don't.
" This with the air of a connoisseur. "But she did have good eyes."
"Yes," I agreed.
"I like brown ones myself."
"Brown?" protested Dickie. "They were blue, dark blue and big-the deep kind.
"
"Oh, were they?" In my tone must have been that which caused Dickie to suspect that I was teasing him.
"You bet she knows it, too," he added, vindictively. "Conceited beggars, these girls.
"
"Awfully," I assented. Then, after a pause: "But I thought you were fond of cherries?"
"So I am. If she'd been a boy, I would have tried to buy a quart.
"
"She seemed to want you to have some," I suggested. "Perhaps she would sell you a few."
Dickie glanced at me suspiciously.
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