And slowly he had found delight in just sitting and looking
at her. He was experienced enough to realize that this was a
dangerous symptom, and so from the moment he had been
forced to acknowledge it to himself he had been very careful
to guard his speech and his manner in the girl's presence.
He found pleasure in dreaming of what might have been as
he sat watching the girl's changing expression as different
moods possessed her; but as for permitting a hope, even, of
realization of his dreams--ah, he was far too practical for
that, dreamer though he was.
As the two talked Grayson passed. His rather stern face
clouded as he saw the girl and the new bookkeeper laughing
there together.
"Ain't you got nothin' to do?" he asked Bridge.
"Yes, indeed," replied the latter.
"Then why don't you do it?" snapped Grayson.
"I am," said Bridge.
"Mr. Bridge is entertaining me," interrupted the girl, before
Grayson could make any rejoinder. "It is my fault--I took
him from his work. You don't mind, do you, Mr. Grayson?"
Grayson mumbled an inarticulate reply and went his way.
"Mr. Grayson does not seem particularly enthusiastic about
me," laughed Bridge.
"No," replied the girl, candidly; "but I think it's just
because you can't ride.
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