Good Indian by B. M. Bower
page 55 of 317 (17%)
page 55 of 317 (17%)
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would not make his meaning too bald; not even Grant could quite
bring himself to warn a girl against believing him a victim of her fascinations. "You needn't stutter. I'm not really stupid. You don't like me any better than I like you. I can see that. We're to be as decent as possible to each other--you from 'common humanity,' and I because I promised Aunt Phoebe." "We-e-l!--that's about it, I guess." Grant eyed her sidelong." Only I wouldn't go so far as to say I actually dislike you. I never did dislike a girl, that I remember. I never thought enough about them, one way or the other." He seemed rather fond of that statement, he repeated it so often." The life I live doesn't call for girls. Put that's neither here nor there. What I wanted to say was, that I won't bother you any more. I wouldn't have said a word to you tonight, if you hadn't walked right up to me and started to dig into me. Of course, I had to fight back--tho man who won't isn't a normal human being." "Oh, I know." Evadna's tone was resentful. "From Adam down to you, it has always been 'The woman, she tempted me.' You're perfectly horrid, even if you have apologized. 'The woman, she tempted me,' and --" "I beg your pardon; the woman didn't," he corrected blandly. "The woman insisted on scrapping. That's different." "Oh, it's different! I see. I have almost forgotten something I ought to say, Mr. Imsen. I must thank you for--well, for |
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