Good Indian, knowing well the easy custom of the country which
makes smoking always permissible, rolled himself a cigarette
while he waited for her to come back to his side of the room. He
was just holding the match up and waiting for a clear blaze
before setting his tobacco afire, when came a tap-tap of feet on
the platform, and Evadna appeared in the half-open doorway.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, and widened her indigo eyes at him sitting
there and looking so much at home.
"Come right in, chicken," Miss Georgie invited cordially. "Don't
stand there in the hot sun. Mr. Imsen is going to turn the seat
of honor over to you this instant. Awfully glad you came. Have
some candy."
Evadna sat down in the rocker, thrust her two little feet out so
that the toe, of her shoes showed close together beyond the hem
of her riding-skirt, laid her gauntleted palms upon the arms of
the chair and rocked methodically, and looked at Grant and then
at Miss Georgie, and afterward tilted up her chin and smiled
superciliously at an insurance company's latest offering to the
public in the way of a calendar two feet long.
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