If anybody asks me how I got the scratches--" The girl looked sharply at him.
"Do you mean to say you'd tell?
Well, if you call that gentlemanly--" "Wouldn't tell the truth, Polly, not for as many kisses as there are scratches, my dear." Polly bridled--young women of her class still bridle--but looked rather pleased.

And Gammon chuckled to himself, thinking that all went well.
The rain came, but for all that they had a day of enjoyment, spent chiefly in an arbour, not quite rainproof, on the skittle-ground behind the "Blue Anchor" at Hendon.

Continuous was the popping of corks, and frequent were the outbursts of hilarity.

Polly did not abandon her reserve with Mr.Gammon; now and then she condescended to smile at his sallies of wit, whereas she screamed at a joke from others.

The landlord of the "Blue Anchor" was a widower of about thirty, and had some claims to be considered a lady's man; to him Polly directed her friendly looks and remarks with a freedom which could not but excite attention.
"Is that the fellow that's going to give me a thrashing ?" Gammon asked of her at length in an aside.
"Don't be a silly," she answered, turning her back.
"Because, if so, I'd better get the start of him.