Presently she looked down at him.
"I don't think you're a damanarkist." Her voice was joyous. "You're
so nice. Can you see good?"
"Very good. There isn't much to see. One might if it weren't for
that--"
"Old tunnel! I don't think they ought to have them if it isn't snowing
or raining. Oh, I do hope Father can come out soon! If I tell you
something will you promise not to tell, not even say it to yourself
out loud?" Her face was raised to his. "I'm going to get Father's
Christmas present to-night. We're going down-town when he is through
over there. He can't see me buy it, and it's something he wants
dreadfully. I've been saving ever since last Christmas. It's going to
cost two dollars and seventy-five cents." The eager voice trailed off
into an awed whisper. "That's an awful lot to spend on something
you're not bound to have, but Christmas isn't like any other time. I
spend millions in my mind at Christmas. Have you bought all your
things, Mr.--Mr.--don't even know your name." She laughed. "What's
your name, Mr. Man?"
Van Landing hesitated. Caution and reserve were inherent
characteristics.
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