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London, Jack, 1876-1916

"Burning Daylight"


You're the first one I've not been afraid of. That's the strange
thing about it. I just plumb worship you, and yet I'm not afraid
of you. Mebbe it's because you're different from the women I
know. You've never chased me. Lady-killer! Why, I've been
running away from ladies ever since I can remember, and I
guess all that saved me was that I was strong in the wind and
that I never fell down and broke a leg or anything.
"I didn't ever want to get married until after I met you, and
until a long time after I met you. I cottoned to you from the
start; but I never thought it would get as bad as marriage. Why,
I can't get to sleep nights, thinking of you and wanting you."
He came to a stop and waited. She had taken the lace and muslin
from the basket, possibly to settle her nerves and wits, and was
sewing upon it. As she was not looking at him, he devoured her
with his eyes. He noted the firm, efficient hands--hands that
could control a horse like Bob, that could run a typewriter
almost as fast as a man could talk, that could sew on dainty
garments, and that, doubtlessly, could play on the piano over
there in the corner. Another ultra-feminine detail he
noticed--her slippers.


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