"It's the beast in him," Fuller put in. "The gals are always fooled by
Andy's curly hair and soulful eyes, but sooner or later they wake up to
his true nature."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "I think you're a beast, too. All men are
beasts. But as for Andy, he takes first prize. He had to go and ruin
the date I made for him and Susie. It practically broke her heart that
she wasn't going with us today."
Pearce moved his hands in a helpless gesture. "I'm sorry about Susie,
but this was one time I didn't want to be fixed up with a date."
"I don't think you ever did," Ellen said bitterly. "I practically had
to browbeat you into all the dates I made for you."
"Your concern for my ... well, call it social life, is deeply
appreciated," Pearce returned with mild sarcasm.
"Yours?" she protested. "Andy Pearce, I assure you that arranging your
dates was nothing more or less than self-defense on my part. I didn't
want people to get the idea that I was preparing for a life of bigamy
by always going out with two men."
"I plead self-defense, too." Pearce was sober. "Romantic complications
are something I wanted to avoid. Anyhow, getting back to this picnic
today, I wanted it to be strictly a family affair."
Fuller's red head swung around in dismay. "Good grief, Andy, don't tell
me all your relatives are going to be out here! If that's the reason
you wanted to visit your boyhood stamping grounds--"
"Relax," Pearce said. "No relatives. I was speaking figuratively. I
never had enough relatives to mention. An uncle brought me up, and he
departed this vale of tears a long time ago."