complexion, he had expected her to speak Italian or broken English. And,
possibly because for a long time he had seen and known little of women,
he was quite struck with her good looks. He hesitated, stammered, and
then said:--

"Won't you come in?"

She drew back still farther and made a rapid gesture of negation with
her head, her hand, and even her whole lithe figure. Then she said, with
a decided American intonation:--

"No, sir."

"Why not?" said Jarman mechanically.

The girl sidled up against the cabin, keeping her eyes fixed on Jarman
with a certain youthful shrewdness.

"Oh, you know!" she said.

"I really do not. Tell me why."

She drew herself up against the wall a little proudly, though still
youthfully, with her hands behind her.

"I ain't that kind of girl," she said simply.

The blood rushed to Jarman's checks. Dissipated and abandoned as his
life had been, small respecter of women as he was, he was shocked and
shamed. Knowing too, as he did, how absorbed he was in other things, he