He's a perfect
savage. I simply loathe him!"
"I'd certainly see that he repented, apologized, and vowed
eternal devotion," smiled Miss Georgie. "That should be my
revenge."
"I don't want any revenge. I simply want nothing to do with him.
I don't want to speak to him, even."
"He's awfully good--looking," mused Miss Georgie.
"He looks to me just like an Indian. He ought to wear a blanket,
like the rest."
"Then you're no judge. His eyes are dark; but they aren't snaky,
my dear. His hair is real wavy, did you notice? And he has the
dearest, firm mouth. I noticed it particularly, because I admire
a man who's a man. He's one. He'd fight and never give up, once
he started. And I think"--she spoke hesitatingly-- "I think he'd
love--and never give up; unless the loved one disappointed him in
some way; and then he'd be strong enough to go his way and not
whine about it. I do hate a whiner! Don't you?"
A shadow fell upon the platform outside the door, and Saunders
appeared, sidling deprecatingly into the room.
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