"Does that mean that you've lost them?"
"Yes," I said.
"And lately?"
"My father died when I was sixteen, my mother left me two years ago."
"You don't look more than nineteen now."
"I'm nearly twenty-one."
"Well, I don't mean to catechize you, though one certainly must get
friendly--or the other way--I suppose, penned up in a place like this
all night. And you've really been very kind to me. Although you're a
pretty girl, as you must know, I didn't think at first I was going to
like you so much."
"And I didn't you," I retorted, laughing, because I really did begin to
like the queer old lady now, and was glad I hadn't dropped a pillow on
her head.
"That's right. Be frank. I like frankness. Do you know, I believe you
and I would get on very well together if our acquaintance was going to
be continued? If Beau approves of a person, I let myself go."
"You use him as if he were a barometer."
"There you are again, with your funny ideas! I shall remember that one,
and bring it out as if it were my _own_. I consider myself quite lucky
to have got you for a travelling companion.
Pages:
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27