“I ain’t gallivanting,” she corrected immediately, glancing down at her feet. “I’m roller skating.”
Where was this guy from that he didn’t know the difference? Harley used the stop to give a little push, gliding back his direction to explain how he’d made a mistake, and not just with the pillows. So she was just near enough to hear the muttered comment about fire. Not all of it, but enough of the words were audible enough for her imagination to fill the rest in. Harley had a rather vivid imagination.
The hand holding the green pillow was waved negligently. “Oh there ain’t nuthin in here worth setting on fire. See the trick is, you want something that starts off slow, to give you time to escape the scene of the crime, but ends really big, so you can see your handiwork from a coupla blocks away. See? Which is why a puffy couch with lots of stuffing works better. But they don’t got a single good, puffy couch in this place. They’re all like these things.”
Harley shook the pillow in disgust, her expression clearly giving her opinion of the furniture in the store. “This is not a pillow. It looks like a pillow. It’s shaped like a pillow. It’s not a pillow. Pillows are soft and wonderful.”
Without warning, she whacked the green pillow against his arm. “Does that feel soft and wonderful? Does that feel puffy? NO!”