A moment they looked at each other; then the man's riding cap came off
with a sweep and he held out his hand.
"Bess!" he said intimately; and for another moment that was all. Then he
looked her fair between the eyes. "I came to see your husband," he
exclaimed. "Is he at home?"
The girl showed no surprise, ignored the out-stretched hand.
"I was expecting you," she said. "How told me last night that you had
returned."
A shade of colour stole into the man's blonde cheeks and his hand
dropped; but his eyes held their place.
"Yes. I only came yesterday," he returned. "I've a little business to
talk over with How. That's why I'm here this morning. Is he about?"
Just perceptibly the girl smiled; but she made no answer.
"Don't you wish to be friends, Bess?" persisted the man. "Aren't we to
be even neighbourly?"
"Neighbourly, certainly. I have no desire to be otherwise."
"Why don't you answer me, then?" The red shading was becoming positive
now, telltale. "Tell me why, please."
"Answer?" The girl rolled down one sleeve deliberately. "Answer?" She
undid its mate. "Do you really fancy, cousin by courtesy, that after
I've lived the last four months I'm still such a child as that? Do you
really wish me to answer, Neighbour Craig?"
For the first time the man's eyes dropped. Some silver coins in his
trousers pocket jingled as he fingered them nervously. Then again he
looked up.
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