Please go on; what kind of fun did you have?
I like to hear about girls' scrapes.
We had plenty of them at college, but I couldn't tell you half of them." He had settled himself beside her now, his appropriating eyes still taking in her beauty.
"Oh, all kinds," she replied as she bent her head and glanced at the blossoms on her breast to be assured of their protective covering.
"But I shouldn't think you could have much fun with the teachers watching you every minute," said Bart, moving nearer to her and turning his body so he could look squarely into her eyes.
"Yes, but they didn't find out half that was going on." Then she added coyly, "I don't know whether you can keep a secret--do you tell everything you hear ?" "Never tell anything." "How do I know ?" "I'll swear it." In proof he held up one hand and closed both eyes in mock reverence as if he were taking an oath.

He was getting more interested now in her talk; up to this time her beauty had dazzled him.
"Never! So help me--" he mumbled impressively.
"Well, one day we were walking out to the park--Now you're sure you won't tell sister, she's so easily shocked ?" The tone was the same, but the inflection was shaded to closer intimacy.
Again Bart cast up his eyes.
"And all the girls were in a string with Miss Griggs, the Latin teacher, in front, and we all went in a cake shop and got a big piece of gingerbread apiece.

We were all eating away hard as we could when we saw Miss Sarah coming.

Every girl let her cake go, and when Miss Sarah got to us the whole ten pieces were scattered along the sidewalk." Bart looked disappointed over the mild character of the scrape.

From what he had seen of her he had supposed her adventures would be seasoned with a certain spice of deviltry.
"I wouldn't have done that, I'd have hidden it in my pocket," he replied, sliding down on the sofa until his head rested on the cushion next her own.
"We tried, but she was too close.