"
"How do you know that?" he demanded.
"Because I like you less and less."
Daylight sat dumfounded. The hurt showed itself plainly in his
face.
"Oh, you don't understand," she cried wildly, beginning to lose
self-control--"It's not that way I mean. I do like you; the more
I've known you the more I've liked you. And at the same time the
more I've known you the less would I care to marry you."
This enigmatic utterance completed Daylight's perplexity.
"Don't you see?" she hurried on. "I could have far easier
married the Elam Harnish fresh from Klondike, when I first laid
eyes on him long ago, than marry you sitting before me now."
He shook his head slowly. "That's one too many for me. The more
you know and like a man the less you want to marry him.
Familiarity breeds contempt--I guess that's what you mean."
"No, no," she cried, but before she could continue, a knock came
on the door.
"The ten minutes is up," Daylight said.
His eyes, quick with observation like an Indian's, darted about
the room while she was out. The impression of warmth and comfort
and beauty predominated, though he was unable to analyze it;
while the simplicity delighted him--expensive simplicity, he
decided, and most of it leftovers from the time her father went
broke and died.
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