"Jerry is out of my hands, Miss Van Wyck," I managed coolly.
"What do you suppose I'm going to do with him?"
The glamour of youth in a garden, her rare humor and the cloudless day--I had managed well so far, but she pressed me hard. Jerry was no chattel to be bandied carelessly. I felt my body stiffening.
"Jerry is very sweet, Mr. Canby," she went on with that softness of voice that I had grown to understand. "He does anything, everything that I ask him to. It really is a great responsibility. Human judgment is so fallible, especially a woman's. Suppose I asked him to become a nihilist or President, or even both."
D--- the vixen. She was making game of me. But I struggled to hold my temper, taking her literally.
"Nihilism? Political or moral, Miss Van Wyck? To one of your means, the first would be inconvenient; to one of your affections, the other dangerous."
She flashed a narrow glance at me. "_Touchée._ I like the thrust from cover, but I can parry. Suppose that I said that I would relinquish Jerry."
"I'm not sure that you can," I replied coolly.
Our glances met again. She knew that I read her.
"Nothing is impossible to intelligence. I could send him away tomorrow, today--"
"You frighten me," she said, shuddering prettily.
"That is precisely what I wish to do," I went on stolidly.
I shrugged. "You underestimate him, that's all."
"Perhaps. You know, Mr. Canby, that you improve vastly on acquaintance. If you were younger--" She paused and looked at me slantwise.
I could have bitten out my tongue the moment I had spoken the words, and the dark look she shot at me as she flashed around gave a measure of her latent deviltry.
"Jerry told you that!" she said in tones half-suppressed.
"No. But I know. I haven't watched for a month for nothing. I'm not a child, Miss Van Wyck."
"A prophet. Jerry is no woman's plaything. Let him be. You don't know him as I do. I warn you."
She suddenly went into a fit of laughter, meant to ruffle my dignity.
"Off with my head! If you knew how much you remind me of the _Queen_ in 'Alice in Wonderland'!"
"I can't," she laughed again. "You're too absurd to be tragic."
"Perhaps we had better be going toward the house," I remarked.
She moved slowly along, her back eloquent of disdain. But she paused for a moment to let me join her.