CRIMSON MOUNTAIN Read Online Free PDF Page B

me.”
    “Yes?” he said with a grin. “You’re not so easy to forget, my lady. And remember, we still have business to transact.”
    “Business?” said Laurel, lifting questioning eyes to his.
    “Your car,” he reminded.
    “Oh yes, of course,” said the girl in chagrin. “But I should have told you not to bother any further about that. You know, really I’m not a baby, and if I’m going to teach school and earn my own living I’ve got to learn to look after my own car, and all my other affairs.”
    “Yes?” Pilgrim said with a little tinge of his habitual gravity edging his grin. “But not when there’s a gentleman near to help. At least I hope I can count as a gentleman.”
    She gave him a swift questioning look. Had she somehow hurt him? “Oh—why,
of course,”
she said heartily. “I don’t think I ever saw one with more courtesy. You’ve been perfectly marvelous. But I certainly am ashamed to have taken advantage of your courtesy all this time. And I mustn’t do it any longer. If you’ll just take me back to that garage, we’ll call it a day and—you can go on your way.” Her voice trembled the least little bit as she said it, and she cast a frightened look up at him, trying to smile calmly.
    He read all that in his one glance at her face, and his own took on a tenderer light. “Say, now, look here! Why can’t you give up that ‘perfectly marvelous’ way of looking at this thing and just for the time being pretend that we are old friends? I’ll promise you I’ll never take advantage of you afterward on account of it.”
    She gave him a quick almost indignant look. “Of course not!” she said definitely. “Even though we’re practically strangers, I would
know
that as well as if I had known you for years.”
    “Thank you,” he said pleasantly. “But you forget. We’re not strangers. Not even practically. We
are
old friends, at least for the convenience of the day. Childhood friends, or if you prefer, school friends. We might compromise on that, although I do look a little old to have been a contemporary of yours in school.”
    “I don’t think you do,” said Laurel quickly. “When people are grown up, no one stops to count the years between them. And it’s a woman’s business to keep young-looking of course, especially if she has to earn her living.” She gave him a merry little twinkle and pushed her hair back from her forehead.
    “Oh, by the way,” said Pilgrim, “how did you make out?”
    “Why, I made out very well when they finally got around to me,” she said. “They must have been somewhat peeved that I wasn’t there at the beginning of the session, or else that’s their usual way of keeping applicants on nettles until they have had opportunity to study them carefully. At any rate, after they had given me a chair, they practically ignored me until they had canvassed a number of unimportant matters, like what they were going to do with one named Jimmy, and whether they should give up a certain kind of soap for cleaning that they have bought for years, in favor of a new kind that claims to do the work more cheaply, and whether they should allow any students to help in the cafeteria or require the matron in charge to do all the work. But after due time had passed and all the questions of the universe had been settled, they put me through a rigid questionnaire and then hired me. I am to begin Monday.”
    “That’s good, if that’s what you really want,” said the young man, looking at her as if he would search out her real feelings in the matter.
    “Well, I do,” said the girl thoughtfully and not very cheerfully. “I’m not so strong on Carrollton, but if I don’t get started somewhere, I’ll never get anywhere. But what did the man say about my car? Have you telephoned?”
    “Yes. It was generator trouble as I thought, and in consequence a blown fuse. He says he can’t possibly get it fixed for you before sometime tomorrow morning. How is that going