She knows what she wants, all right, and if she likes you she
likes you, and if she don't, she don't, and she don't make out she
does. Did--did you fuss?"
"We didn't fuss." Van Landing smiled slightly. "We didn't agree about
certain things."
"Good gracious! You don't want to marry an agree-er, do you? Mrs.
Barlow's one. Everything her husband thinks, she thinks, too, and
sometimes he can't stand her another minute. Where are you going now?"
"I'm going to telephone for a taxi-cab. Then I'm going home to change
my clothes and get a hat, and then I'm going to my office to look
after some matters there; then I'm going with you to do some
shopping, and then I'm going to the Green Tea-pot to meet Miss
Barbour. If you could go with me now it would save time. Can you go?"
"If I can tell Father first. Wait for me, will you?"
Around the corner Carmencita flew, and was back as the taxi-cab
stopped at Mother McNeil's door. Getting in, she sat upright and shut
her eyes. Van Landing was saying good-by and expressing proper
appreciation and mentally making notes of other forms of expression to
be made later; and as she waited her breath came in long, delicious
gasps through her half-parted lips.
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