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I think I hate you! she flamed at him.
Amazement triumphed over the other emotions then a real amazement: the detected impostor had resumed his former debonair bearing and met her scornful eye with a slow and provoking smile.
Oh, no, you dont, he said reassuringly. On the contrary, you dont hate me at all!
Im going home, anyhow, she retorted bitterly. You may draw your own conclusions.
Still, she did not go, which possibly had a confusing effect upon his inferences.
Just one minute, maam, if you please. How did you know so pat where the little black horse was? I didnt tell you.
Little waves of scarlet followed each other to her burning face.
Im not going to stay another moment. Youre detestable! And its nearly sundown.
Oh, you neednt hurry. Its not far.
She followed his gesture. To her intense mortification she saw the blue smoke of her home campfire flaunting up from a gully not half a mile away. It was her turn to droop now. She drooped.
There was a painful silence. Then, in a far-off, hard, judicial tone:
How long, maam, if I may ask, have you known that the little black horse was tangled up?
Miss Ellinors eyes shifted wildly. She broke a twig from a mahogany bush and examined the swelling buds with minutest care.
Well? said her ruthless inquisitor sternly.
Since since I went for your hat, she confessed in a half whisper.
To deceive me so! Pain, grief, surprise, reproach, were in his words. Have you anything to say? he added sadly.
A slender shoe peeped out beneath her denim skirt and tapped on a buried boulder. Ellinor regarded the toetip with interest and curiosity. Then, half-audibly:
We were having such a good time And it might never happen again!
He captured both her hands. She drew back a little ever so little; she trembled slightly, but her eyes met his frankly and bravely.