I don't care much about girls, one way or the other. But, for
all I've got the name of being several things--a savage among the
rest--I don't like to feel such a brute as to make war on a girl
that seems to be getting it handed to her right along."
He tardily lighted his cigarette and sat smoking beside her, the
tiny glow lighting his face briefly now and then.
"When I was joshing you there before supper," he went on,
speaking low that he might not be overheard--and ridiculed--from
the house, "I didn't know the whole outfit was making a practice
of doing the same thing. I hadn't heard about the dead tarantula
on your pillow, or the rattler coiled up on the porch, or any of
those innocent little jokes. But if the rest are making it their
business to devil the life out of you, why--common humanity
forces me to apologize and tell you I'm out of it from now on."
"Oh! Thank you very much." Evadna's tone might be considered
ironical. "I suppose I ought to say that your statement lessens
my dislike of you--"
"Not at all.
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