"
"Are you living on your claim?" he asked again, without
moving.
"Why, yes. We moved in last week."
"Well, we'll ride over, then, and you can make coffee there.
I'm not hungry right now."
"Oh." She leaned again and peered at him, trying to read his
face. "You don't WANT me to go in!"
"Yes, I do--but I don't. If you stayed and made coffee,
tomorrow you'd be kicking yourself for it, and you'd be
blaming me." Which, considering the life he had lived, almost
wholly among men, was rather astute of Andy Green.
"Oh." Then she laughed. "You must have some sisters, Mr.
Green." She was silent for a minute, looking at him. "You're
right," she said quietly then. "I'm always making a fool of
myself, just on the impulse of the moment. The girls will be
worried about me, as it is. But I don't want you to ride any
farther, Mr. Green. What I came to say need not take very
long, and I think I can find my way home alone, all right."
"I'll take you home when you're ready to go," said Andy
quietly. All at once he had wanted to shield her, to protect
her from even so slight an unconventionality as making his
coffee for him. He had felt averse to putting her at odds
with her conventional self, of inviting unfavorable criticism
of himself; dimly, because instinct rather than cold analysis
impelled him.
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