Miss Georgie stood where she was, and watched him with her mouth
twisted to one side and three perpendicular creases between her
eyebrows. When he was out of sight, she glanced at Evadna--once
more perched sulkily upon the rock.
"Head still bad, chicken?" she inquired cheerfully. "Better stay
here in the shade--I won't be gone long."
"I'm going to fish," said Evadna, but she did not stir, not even
when Miss Georgie went on, convoyed by all the Hart boys.
Good Indian had volunteered the information that he was going to
fish downstream, but he was a long time in tying his leader and
fussing with his reel. His preparations were finished just when
the last straggler of the group was out of sight. Then he laid
down his rod, went over to Evadna, took her by the arm, and drew
her back to the farther shelter of the ledge.
"Now, what's the trouble?" he asked directly. "I hope you're not
trying to make yourself think I was only-- You know what I meant,
don't you? And you said yes.
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