' Now, I want to know what sort of a man, under fifty
and not a college professor, would--or could--say that without
studying it first. It sounded awfully impromptu and easy--and
yet he looks--well, cowboyish. What sort of a young man is he?"
"He's a perfectly horrid young man." Evadna leaned to help
herself to more chocolates. "He--well, just to show you how
horrid, he calls me a--a Christmas angel! And--"
"Did he!" Miss Georgie eyed her measuringly between bites. "Tag
him as being intelligent, a keen observer, with the ability to
express himself--" She broke off, and turned her head
ungraciously toward the sounder, which seemed to be repeating
something over and over with a good deal of insistence. "That's
Shoshone calling," she said, frowning attentively. "They've got
an old crank up there in the office--I'd know his touch among a
million--and when he calls he means business. I'll have to speak
up, I suppose." She sighed, tucked a chocolate into her cheek,
and went scowling to the table.
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