"
"You certainly exhibit no symptoms of doing so," he admitted, frankly.
"But you might, at least, have washed your face and fixed your hair."
She flashed one angry glance at him, stopping in the middle of the
road, her head flung back as though ready for battle. Then, as if by
some swift magic of emotion, her expression changed. "And so you're
ashamed of me, are you?" she asked, her voice sharp but unsteady.
"Ashamed to be seen walking with me? Darn it! I know you are! But I
tell you, Mr. Bob Hampton, you won't be the next time. And what's
more, you just don't need to traipse along another step with me now. I
don't want you. I reckon I ain't very much afraid of tackling this
Presbyterian woman all alone."
She swung off fiercely, and the man chuckled softly as he followed,
watchfully, through the circling, red dust cloud created by her hasty
feet. The truth is, Mr. Hampton possessed troubles and scruples of his
own in connection with this contemplated call. He had never met the
lady; indeed, he could recall very few of her sex, combining
respectability and refinement, whom he had met during the past ten
years.
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