What she meant to discover was the attitude toward the situation
of one neither particularly innocent nor helpless. Was he, too, about to be
"caught in the coil of a God's romances," or was he merely playing on the
vibrating strings of an untaught heart?
It was in part to satisfy this craving for knowledge that she wrote Ridgway
a note as soon as she reached home. It said:
MY DEAR RECREANT LAGGARD: If you are not too busy playing Sir Lancelot to
fair dames in distress, or splintering lances with the doughty husbands of
these same ladies, I pray you deign to allow your servant to feast her eyes
upon her lord's face. Hopefully and gratefully yours, VIRGINIA.
P. S.--Have you forgotten, sir, that I have not seen you since that
terrible blizzard and your dreadful imprisonment in Fort Salvation?
P. P. S.--I have seen somebody else, though. She's a dear, and full of your
praises. I hardly blame you.
V.
She thought that ought to bring him soon, and it did.
"I've been busy night and day," he apologized
when they met.
Virginia gave him a broadside demurely.
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