He set the glass, rapidly frosting in the heat, and the fruit before the Girl.
"Now!" he said.
For one instant she stared at the table.

Then she looked at him and in the depths of her dark eyes was an appeal he never forgot.
"I made that drink myself, so it's all right," he assured her.

"There's a pretty stiff touch of pineapple in it, and it cuts the cobwebs on a hot day.

Please try it!" "I can't!" cried the Girl with a half-sob.

"Think of Aunt Molly!" "Are you fond of her ?" "No.