The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock. “Oh, please. . His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. "We'll do it. ’ ‘Why not?’ Gerald asked straightly. Sheppard, that I fear any further anxiety might prove fatal to him. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. “Are you A, B, C, or D?” he asked. " But seeing that no notice was taken of the retort, he drew a little aside, and folded his arms, muttering, "This whim will soon be over. Gerald’s gaze bored into hers.
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