He thrust out his hand as he came to a halt before
her. "Congratulations to the distinguished decorator!" he cried, and
came to the end, temporarily, of his eloquence.
Charlotte looked up in amazement. Jeff seized her hand and pumped it up
and down. She glanced in bewilderment at her uncle, and met his smile of
encouragement.
"Mine, too," he said.
"What--" she began, and her voice stuck in her throat. Her heart began
to thump wildly. Then Jeff told it all in one burst:
"Uncle Ray found your stuff in the attic--thought it great--woke me up
and ground it out of me what you meant to do with it. He was sure, as I
was, it was fit to show, and you ought not to do it all over first. Got
a horse, drove into Chrystler's, saw Murdock. He would look at anything,
listened to the story about the baby, looked at the stuff. Face
changed--didn't it, Uncle Ray?--from politeness to interest, and all the
rest of it. Said the work had faults, of course--you expected that,
Fiddle--but it showed promise--'great promise,' that's just what he
said. He wants to see everything you do. He wants you to come and see
him.
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