. ."
"Except . . . ?"
"Except yourself, madam." And he bowed.
"You are TOO kind!"
"And, that being so, don't you think it's your plain duty, as a
hospitable hostess, to grant me . . ."
"Grant you--what? A piece of cheese?"
"Why, no, thanks. Something better. Something much better than that."
"What, then?"
"A kiss. I might as well have it now." As he took a step nearer, she
looked laughingly round for a way of escape, but he was between her and
the door.
"Well," said Merle, "but you must do something to make yourself useful
first. Suppose you ran up that step-ladder for me."
"Delighted. Why, this is great fun!" The slight wooden ladder creaked
under the weight of his solid form as he climbed. "How high am I to go?"
"To reach the top shelf--that's it. Now, you see that big brown jar?
Careful--it's cranberries."
"Splendid--I do believe we're to have cranberry preserve at dinner." By
standing on tiptoe he managed to reach and lift the heavy jar, and stood
holding it, his face flushed with his exertions.
"And now, little lady?"
"Just stay there a moment and hold it carefully; I have to fetch
something." And she hurried out.
Klaus stood at the top of the ladder, holding the heavy jar. He looked
round. What was he to do with it? He waited for Merle to return--but she
did not appear. Someone was playing the piano in the next room. Should
he call for help? He waited on, getting redder and redder in the face.
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