She,
also, was giving utterance to her feminine irritation at the
discomfort--of her aunt presumably, since she herself was high
and dry.
"And it won't do a BIT of good. They'll just knock that dam
business all to pieces to-night--" She was scolding Grant.
"Swearing, chicken? Things must be in a great state!"
Grant grinned at Miss Georgie, forgetting for the moment his
rebuff that morning. "She did swear, didn't she?" he confirmed
wickedly. "And she's been working overtime, trying to reform me.
Wanted to pin me down to 'my goodness!' and 'oh, dear!'--with all
this excitement taking place on the ranch!"
"I wasn't swearing at all. Grant has been shoveling sand all
afternoon, building a dam over by the fence, and the water has
been rising and rising till--" She waved her hand gloomily at her
bedraggled Aunt Phoebe working like a motherly sort of gnome in
its shadowy grotto. "Oh, if I were Aunt Phoebe, I should just
shake you, Grant Imsen!"
"Try it," he invited, his eyes worshiping her in her pretty
petulance.
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